Who I once was
by Amberthepirate
Summary: Steve is injured by Loki, and regresses back into his pre serum state. Worried for his mental and physical welfare Tony offers to keep Steve Company at his apartment while he's on "bed rest". Slash Steve/Tony, humour, fluff, pre serum Steve for the lulz.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Who I once was

Summary: Steve is injured by Loki, and regresses back into his pre serum state. Worried for his mental and physical welfare Tony offers to keep Steve Company at his apartment while he's on "bed rest". Slash Steve/Tony, humour, fluff, pre serum Steve for the lulz.

The world had gone mad.

Steve's ears were flooded by muffled sounds that he couldn't quite hear, and his eyes rolled around in their sockets seeing but not understanding what was happening around him. Captain America had been brought down. Inwardly Steve pondered that Loki had seriously upgraded that staff of his, the strange green beam had completely ripped him a new one. Imagine what it would do to a normal person.

He felt fingers on his face.

Someone was looking in his eyes, trying to see if he was unconscious. Steve tried to get his eyes to focus to what was in front of them, he could make out the lines of a face but he couldn't read it. Every muscle in his suited body was tingly and ached. He just wanted to sleep.

The next thing he knew he was flying.

"..."

Was somebody talking? Steve still couldn't hear properly.

"...eve"

Part of him was scared to open his eyes.

"Steve!"

The voice of Tony Stark cut through Steve like knife; it was intensely recognisable and brought him back to reality. He wiggled his toes and fingers, nothing was missing but he did feel very strange. The blonde hero decided that now would be a good time to see. He cracked open his left eye and an intense light filled it and he winced but eventually opened the other one. The disgusting bleached whiteness of the hospital was all around and above him. As were his teammates. The whole Team was crowded around the bed, Ironman and Thor on his left, Black Widow and Bruce (thankfully de hulked) on his right and Hawkeye was sitting in a chair by the door flipping though a magazine. His eyes looked to Steve for a moment and when he saw that he was awake the archer quickly joined Steve at the foot of the bed. They all looked really worried.

"Guys?" Steve uttered weakly, his voice was dry and small. Natasha patted his leg gently "Yeah it's us, we were so worried about you." Her kind words made Steve feel more at ease. Tony clicked his tongue. "Yep, you were delirious. You kept asking if we'd won the war."

Steve felt the tips of his ears heat up, he really _had _been delirious. "O-oh, umm, what's wrong with me? Er-errr I mean why am I here? I don't feel like I have any injuries." As a soldier Steve had taught himself to recognise if he or others injuries on the battlefield that that appropriate medical help could be given quickly. He felt no broken bones or stitches...but he was achy. There was a tense silence until Hawkeye broke it "Well yeah you are fine except for-"he shut up pretty quickly when he saw the looks the others were giving him.

"Except for what?"

Thor rubbed his eyes and Tony gestured for them to go outside the room. Steve wished he could hear them talk but all he could see through the window was their mouths moving. Steve began to feel panic creep in, something was very wrong here. Tony finally entered the room again and pulled up a chair next to the patient. He spoke. "Ah, look big guy-" This must be bad; Tony only ever called him that when he either wanted something or was trying to let him down gently. "Tony what's going on?" His voice was tight but still commanding. The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist clicked his tongue again.

"Okay. You remember how you were before the super soldier serum? Well, it looks like that whatever Loki blasted you with has reversed its effect and now your back physically to that state."

Steve completely drained of colour; his blue eyes were wide with fright. "W-what?" he stuttered, he'd heard perfectly well the first time he just needed to make sure this wasn't a nightmare. Before Tony could speak again Steve began to squirm on the bed, the drips he was fitted with were tugged around. Steve looked at his hands; his fingers were too long and bony and were out of proportion to his stickman arms. "O-oh no no no no no no no no" he pulled up his shirt to reveal a muscle less stomach. Steve wasn't the type to scream and besides he didn't have the energy so instead he let out a high pitched whimper. It was very masculine.

Tony watched as Steve practically did back flips on the hospital bed trying to check every part of his body to see if any muscle had remained at all. He tried to tell his frantic teammate that he could hurt himself but Steve was deaf to the world at this point. So he figured it would be better if the Captain saw the mess Loki had created for himself, explore the new limitations of this physical state and grasp the gravity of the situation. His movements reminded Tony of a newborn farm animal, snuffling around in the straw with long spindly limbs and big soft eyes. A calf maybe? No, a lamb, Steve was a lamb right now.

"You're pretty adorable." Tony said.

Steve turned to face him, and instead of being pale he now had a red flush of embarrassment. "W-What?" Tony shrugged. "I thought I'd put that out there, does it make you feel better?"

"No!"

Tony sighed a little; it was a long shot anyway. Steve had thankfully stopped moving and was now sitting on the bed with his thing legs pulled to his chest. He buried his face in his knees, the heated tips of his ears showing through his hair. Tony resisted the weird sudden desire to gently stroke Steve's cheek, he wasn't normally touchy feely but it looked like Steve could use some of the mush at this moment. The Captain mumbled something into his knees; Tony climbed onto the bed and listened carefully. "Hmm? Didn't hear that."

"Does Fury know about this?"

Tony frowned. "He's probably gonna walk through that door any minute." Steve didn't budge from his position. "The others shouldn't have to see me like this..." Tony sighed and patted Steve's shoulder. "It's a bit late for that Capsicle, but they understand, they know it's not your fault." The Captain's shoulder felt bony under Tony's hand instead of solid muscle.

God, he was puny.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony had been right on the money. A few minutes, later Nick Fury in all his motherfuckin glory stormed into the Hospital room, followed by a very nervous looking team of avengers. A PA also trotted in and stood beside Fury with her iphone reading to take notes, her high heels amplifying her footsteps. Steve had tried unsussfully to hide himself under his bed covers but Fury ripped them off with such ferocity that a nearby Nurse was very startled along with Steve. "WHAT THE MUTHERFUKIN HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Tony opened his mouth but was cut off. "WHAT DID THAT MUTHERFUKIN SON OF AN ICE GIANT HIT YOU WITH?" Steve suddenly felt very cold at his lack of blanket, he returned to his previous position of tucking his long limbs into his chest and rapping his arms around them. The silence seemed eternal until he found the courage to speak. "S-sir, he-er, I don't k-know it was some kind of" he looked very peaky. "Magic?"

"...magic?" Fury deadpanned.

Steve wanted to crawl under a rock and die; the expressions of his team and Fury were enough to make him vomit. A horrid mixture of curiosity, pity, confusion and despair; he felt like a flea bitten circus animal being gawked at from behind a set of bars.

Fury threw the bed covers onto the floor and threw his own hands up into the air. "OF COURSE ITS MUTHERFUKIN MAGIC" Tony felt that he didn't speak up now then wouldn't get the chance later. "Err, Nick? Not that don't adore your flexible use of curses but this really isn't helping Steve."

Fury rubbed his temples with his gloved fingers "Never thought I'd say this Stark, but your right." Tony blinked, wow; this really was a bad situation. The other Avengers shifted uncomfortably as well, Natasha spoke next. "Nick. Seriously, what do we do?" Her face was determined. Fury glanced at Steve and then to the only female avenger "Miss Romanova, I god damned know what we're _not _going to do. We are not going to panic, and we are not going to let Loki get away with this."

"Here, Here!"

Steve was beginning to feel better, besides from the shivering he managed a small smile. He knew his teammates would come through; Loki would be hunted down and punished for this; Even if not by Steve himself, but by his friends, which was just as satisfying. Justice would prevail.

"I got serious calls to make." Fury looked to Steve. "You Rogers, don't move from that bed and cancel all your appointments for the next year." In a swift movement he hurried out with his PA typing rapidly on her phone and tottering behind him. The silence that followed in the room was easy. Steve could feel many pairs of eyes staring at him again and he began to feel his ears heat up again. "So, hows that hospital food for you?" Tony asked, with a toothy smile.

"_Tony" _sighed Bruce.

"What? I'm just trying to get the ball rolling here. Better than having this awkward silence."

Steve shuffled on his bed, trying to warm his cold feet. "I-I haven't been able to eat anything." A look of surprise came over the avengers, normally could always mange to eat. Thor came over and pressed his huge hand to Steve's shoulder, which shivered under it. "My Friend, This Is A Most Unfortunate Incident. You Were Not Joking When You Told Us Of How Scrawny You Were As A Normal Midgaurdian." He let out a throaty laugh, Steve didn't get the joke. "Never Fear! I'm Sure Furious Nick Will Find A Way Of Bringing You Back To Your Normal Self."

"Yeah they'll probably just give you some drugs and send you back out, you'll be star spangled again in snap." Clint clicked his fingers to show just how snappy the change back would be.

The bony Steve hadn't thought about that, would there be a quick fire cure? Would he just get a little needle in the arm and be sent on his way? "You'll be back to normal by lunch time!" he imagined a cheery doctor with a big small patting him gently on the arm as he left the hospital. "Oh and don't forget you five-a-day young man."

Without warning Fury entered the room again, Steve decided he wanted to be more dignified so he sat up straight. He wasn't counting on the sudden back pain with caused him to slump into a pitiful heap once more. "Rogers" Fury began. "I have good news and bad news." He looked over his shoulder with his all seeing eye. "And I also need to speak to you alone" the avengers took the massive hint and left the room, Tony hesitated but eventually left too winking Steve as he closed the door. Fury gave a massive sigh and placed his hands on the bar at the foot of the bed. "Well son." The "son" was very ironic, Steve was technically old enough to be Fury's grandfather. "The good news is that nobody has to know about this except us, the hospital and S.H.E.I.L.D have a little agreement. Also, we have our own little stash of genius scientists who are going to work around the clock to fix this." Steve felt relief fill his chest, Fury's words brought him up a notch or two. "Thank you sir." He said politely.

"Now the bad news is that we can't let you return to Stark Tower or come out with the team for a while."

The notch or two that he'd been brought up suddenly disappeared and Steve felt his stomach do back flips.

"If anyone were to discover that Captain America had lost his powers you and the team would be swamped. It would like feeding time in the shark tank. By serving your country you've made a lot of enemies. So, the public and official story is that Captain America has gone to work oversees and we've even gotten an actor to give an interview to assure that people buy it. Now, I understand that you have an apartment."

"...yes sir but-"

"We need you to lay low there until we call you, and when I say lay low I mean so low that you'd win every limbo competition. We'll deliver food and essentials to you so you won't have to leave your apartment unless in an emergency."

Steve wasn't in control of his own life anymore; he was a dirty secret, a liability, to be kept in a box until it was needed again. What if they never needed him again? What if they just replaced him with somebody else? They'd done it before. When they thought he was dead. Steve saw Fury's lips moving but he didn't hear what he was saying.

"...do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You should rest"

When Fury left the room Steve let out the strangled sob he'd been keeping inside. There was no one to hear it. Sniffling he retrieved his blanket from the floor and wrapped it around himself like a cocoon. Maybe he'd turn into a butterfly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note:** I want to say thank you for all your wonderful reviews and such ^^ they really help even though I don't deserve it. I don't know how long this story will be, I don't have a plan XD I hope to update as quickly as I can since all other stories are on hold. Oh, and I'm British trying to write America characters so I apologise for any errors in advance.

**Steve:**...you have serious problems ma'am.

**Me:** Don't make me try harder.

Two weeks dripped by. The passing of time was of little importance or consequence to Steve; nothing changed. The very first night he thought that in the morning he'd wake up and be back to normal, he'd be able to leap like gazelle out of bed and head back to base and take his rightful place as leader once more. Right now he couldn't even leap frog. The nurses were very kind and attentive, they called him "Captain Rogers" which wasn't really true but Steve was taking every ounce of dignity he could get. If Tony was there he'd make some crack about them flirting with him. The not-so-super-soldier looked at his reflection in a mirror he'd found in the door of his bedside table. He couldn't bear to look at himself for more than a few minutes without his stomach turning. What he had to look forward to was a skinny little neck, sunken eyes, and protruding cheek bones. He had all the sex appeal of a sickly starving dog, and sickly staving animals should be put down. It's kinder that way.

He'd been given books to read, but after getting several paper cuts _The Never Ending Story _was shunned to the bedside draw along with the mirror. After that Steve conducted a little experiment (Bruce would be so proud) he wanted to see how many push up he could do. Before he could so push ups with one arm and read the paper at the same time. This time he pushed himself to do eighteen then passed out. The muscle pains were ridiculous; he had pains in places he didn't know could hurt all from doing trivial exercise. This was why he couldn't go out with the team, he'd put their lives at risk. He shuddered when the image of a puny Captain America struggling to pull his own shield across the ground came to his head. God what a fool he'd be, what a fool he was. Sleeping was the cure, sleeping helped him forget.

Steve was wrapped so tightly in his blanket that he could barely hear the noises of the hospital around him. With was just fine by him. The sound of people coughing, reaching, crying and moaning in pain gave him nightmares. It was like lying on the battlefield, where the boys who'd gone to fight were nothing more than mutilated writhing vessels of suffering next in line to be corpses. They'd be crying for their mothers of course. Steve hadn't thought about his own parents for a long time, all things considered, as poor Irish immigrants they did a very good job in keeping him fed and almost healthy. Medicines were expensive. His mother's cooking was simplistic but always nice to eat, his favourite was her famous sausage casserole made from scratch. Good meat was also expensive so it was a special treat for them.

Steve looked glumly at the food the nurse had brought him, he wasn't one to complain but he would've given his left arm for some sausage casserole.

"So...hospital food" Tony poked the green jello with his finger and it wobbled suspiciously. "Look at that thing go – I wouldn't eat that if I were you, Oh and don't eat the chicken. It's not really chicken" Steve let out a coughing laugh. "Gosh, you sure know how to ruin a man's appetite." Not that Steve had any to ruin. The food had been given to him an hour ago and hadn't been touched. Tony retracted his finger from the jello and examined it. "Eww, I bet Bruce would find some interesting test subjects in this. So, Furious Nick –That is so his nickname from now on –told me that you're going to live at your place while..." Tony looked Steve up and down. "You're unwell." Steve thought Tony was being generous with his adjectives, he should've just said "unfit for purpose." Steve bit his lip, which hurt more than it should. "He told you about that did he?" Steve tried to give a tired smile but it was difficult. Tony patted Steve's arm gently, his fingers were soft and warm against the pale skinny limb. Steve felt his innards do a funny butterfly type of twitch, must be the food. "Look Rogers, I normally think Fury is so full of hot air he could fly a dozen balloons but this time he's right. Your better safe than sorry." The use of his last name made this whole visit seem less warm, Steve didn't like this new distance he felt from Tony especially when he needed someone by his side.

Tony continued. "Tomorrow night the S.H.E.I.L.D super-nannies are going to move your stuff to your apartment and then pick you up. They do it 007 style late at night so they'll be less people to see you." Steve felt a angry flinch in his fingers at that last comment, he was really starting to feel like some sort of mutant unfit for public eyes that had to be kept in darkness and snuck to secret locations to be kept safe. He felt like saying something, it's not like Tony would rat on him to Fury or anybody else, but a good soldier is like the three wise monkeys:

_Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. _

The Avengers had learned the hard way the importance of that saying so Steve kept quiet. The balance was begging to be unsettled. Tony took out his phone and pressed some buttons. "Oh, I'll come along too." Steve looked up, genuinely surprised. "Really?!" he coughed "I-I mean thank you for offering-" Tony put his hand up as a polite way of saying shut up. "Right now big guy you need all the help you can get. It's no big deal." To Steve it was a big deal, a huge deal. Tony got up and stretched, he then pulled out another phone from his suit pocket and placed it on the bedside table. It was brand new, one of those fancy iphone things. "Call me if you need anything..or you just want to talk or something." He shrugged pretending not to care. "I gotta split, see you big guy." He offered a surprisingly tender smile then left swiftly. Stopped himself from calling out:

_Wait, I want you to stay_


	4. Chapter 4

The S.H.E.I.L.D agents and Tony arrived at twenty three hundred hours on the dot. That's eleven O'clock to you and me. The city never slept and was still buzzing with life, but the cars screeching and sirens sounding didn't keep Steve from dwindling far into sleep.

"It's time to go Captain."

A huge gorilla like agent in a black suit peered over Steve, a little close for Tony's liking. The not-so-super soldier seemed to be asleep, his breathing was slow and rhythmic and the cover would rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. Steve's shoulder was shook gently in an attempt to wake him; he mumbled incoherently with drossiness but didn't move. They needed to get him out as quickly and quietly as possible. Tony set his jaw and walked over to the bedside, shooing the suited gorilla away with his hand.

"Mr Stark-"

"I got this. I got this"

Tony very carefully slid in arms into the tangle of covers until he felt a warm bony frame. He slid under it and pulled Steve from his bed. He was surprisingly light. Steve was like a ragdoll in his teammates arms, a ragdoll made of china that could break with a false step. The agents stared at the two men for a moment then motioned to the door. "We need to leave." Tony adjusted Steve in his arms and nodded then followed them out the door and down the corridor. It was the weirdest feeling. Tony would so brag to the others later how he carried Captain America all the way to the S.H.I.E.L.D car. Not that it was difficult; Tony could've tossed Steve up in the air like a baby if he wanted to. That was not such a pleasant feeling. Tony tried to be as gentle as he could when he placed Steve into the seat next to him, he would never forgive himself if he was accidently hurt or he woke up. He was spooked a little when his friend suddenly yelled out something in his sleep, sounded like "no" or maybe "go" but it didn't matter and Steve didn't utter a peep afterwards.

Steve's head lolled against the car seat as the car with darkened windows turned a corner. Tony wondered what drugs they'd given him to knock him out for so long; he then yawned and rubbed his own eyes. He seriously needed some. It was not a big deal he'd just add drug addict to his title.

Genius playboy billionaire philanthropist drug addict.

It had a bizarre catchy ring to it.

When the car was parked outside the apartment complex the agents quickly filled their arms with Steve's possessions (which were small in number) and with a very sleepy Steve still travelling via Tony's limited and fast running out charitable reserves. Why did he have to the live on the top floor? selfish, selfish Steve. The gorilla agent shuffled in his pockets until he found the right key, he turned the lock and Tony got to see Steve's apartment for the first time. It was...modest. Compared to Stark tower it was the pits. It had one bedroom, a living room, a kitchen which was being eaten up by the living room, one bathroom and a few cupboards. Tony dumped Steve onto his bed with gusto, he'd had enough of being gentle, and he was too fucking tired. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, which dipped with his added weight. Speaking of which, he looked over to Steve to marvel once again at the astonishing change. Steve was skin and bones with scruffy hair and limps two sizes too long. Tony remembered seeing more terrifying 13 year olds, and seriously this was New York the pubescent population scared the hell out of him. The great Captain America, the golden boy, the physical embodiment of good and the heat and soul of the avengers...reduced to this. Tony felt angry. Angry for Steve and angry at himself for not getting to him fast enough, for not blasting Loki into next week; which was still top of his to do list. If only Loki hadn't also decided to take a vacation somewhere the Avengers couldn't find him, cowardly bastard.

Had they not fed Steve at the hospital? Perhaps he'd had not been eating, well, Tony would stay till the morning to make sure he at least got some breakfast. He'd get up early and specially make it...or try to produce something edible without burning the apartment down. He was banned from the Stark tower kitchen after the hot pocket massacre of July 31st so this should be fun for him. Maybe not for the poor unfortunate kitchen but Tony should get some pleasure out of it. He heard the footsteps as the agents entered the room. The skinnier agent spoke this time:

"We've left his suitcases in the living room and you'll have a delivery of food and essentials very mouth from now on so there's no need for him to leave this apartment, S.H.I.E.L.D will keep you updated on any developments on finding a cure. Also Agent Coulson will visit every three weeks to make sure everything's okay."

"Is his first name Agent? I mean seriously –"

"Ahem. There's also a silent alarm and emergency numbers in case of trouble, if you think his location has been compromised you leave straight away. Don't pack anything."

Tony wondered if he should take notes, his eyes were beginning to develop a mind of their own because they kept closing without him realising. He caught snippets of the agent's words but not the details. "Yeah-yeah guys I get it, big brother is watching you, now if you would be so kind I'll take it from here."

The two agents nodded and silently left the apartment. Tony took his shoes and tie off, he didn't want to wake Steve up by him moving about so he choose to sleep as he was where he was. There was plenty of room on the bed. Steve was like a dormouse next to him, cured up in a pile of pillows and blankets. Tony could resist, he tucked a stray hair behind his friend's ear. Steve mumbled something.

"Good night big guy..." Tony slept like a log.


	5. Chapter 5

Authors note: I'm going away on holiday so updates will slow right down for about a week. But don't worry I'll be back ^^

"_En-ga-land swings like a pendu-lum do, Bobbies on bicycles two by twooo~"*_

Steve's ears were filled with music; it had the distinctive crackle of static that you could only get with old radios. He also could hear the shuffle of movement and the clanging of pots and pans. Was he still in hospital? Wait, weren't the S.H.I.E.L.D agents coming to pick him up? Steve opened his eyes and was momentarily awash with panic as he didn't know where he was. His gangly form flailed about until he fell out of bed. The landing was far from graceful.

"_Westminster Ab-bey, the tower Big Ben~"_

Steve groaned but relief flooded within him as he recognised his apartment bedroom. The old war memorabilia posters on his walls while intimidating for some were comforting to him. He fondled the corners of a particularly aged one with a strange affection, it gave him confidence. It was time to find out who had dug out_ his_ radio and was messing around in_ his_ kitchen. One upside Steve discovered from his small size was that his step was light and silent; normally the floorboards of the apartment would creak underneath. Tony would take the opportunity to make a fat joke. Steve opened his wardrobe to find clothes; he was still wearing the small cotton shirt and boxers he'd been given by the nurses on special request. He hated those gowns they made you wear and the staff were more than happy to accommodate. However, as he pulled out a plaid shirt and pants Steve's little heart dropped to his stomach. The clothes absolutely drowned him. The plaid shirt drooped sadly just below his knees and even with his overly long, thin arms the sleeves completely covered them and left at least 5 inches at the end. Steve abandoned the pants on his bedroom floor. He hugged the wall as he carefully slid down the corridor and poked his head around the corner into the kitchen. Someone had their back to him and was digging for something in the pots and pans cupboard. Action needed to be taken.

Now, Steve had been trained to pull off a perfect ambush with minimal blood, noise, and with deadly speed. However his leg had decided that he wasn't going to pull it off. Steve let out a pained squeak, yes, squeak, as the muscles in his leg suddenly seized up and he toppled forward. The sleeves became his undoing as his feet trapped one as Steve lost balance. Which lead to him doing a barrel roll into the kitchen and landing at the feet of...Tony Stark?

"_The rosy red cheeks of the little children~"_

"...Okay, Wow, just wow."

Steve gawked. "T-Tony Stark! Wh-who-where?"

He saw the arc reactor in his teammate's chest flicker as he tried to stifle his laugher. Steve felt with horror the tell tale heating up of his ears and cheeks as he flushed, mortified. He quickly scrambled to his feet. Tony helped him up with an over the top gasp. "Carful! Don't want to trip over the air." He wiggled his fingers in a circle to indicate "the air." Steve frowned and crossed his arms defensively. "I didn't trip over the air I tripped over –well that don't matter, how'd you get here? How'd_ I _get here?" Tony guided the confused Steve to the couch and took a seat next to him. Their thighs contacted briefly. Tony rubbed his eyes, and yawned a little. "This may take a bit of explaining, I might not be clear on all the details but I'll give you what I know." Steve tensed a bit.

"Right, well the S.H.E.I.L.D supernannies did come to get you –I tagged alone because you know I'm nice like that- but you were asleep so I carried you like a princess to the car and then back to your apartment. They said they'd deliver what you needed so he wouldn't have to leave and that your fan-boy would visit every so often to check that we haven't eaten each other."

"My fan-boy?" Steve puzzled.

"You know, Agent Coulson." Tony rolled his eyes; they looked blue in the light, but Tony's eyes weren't blue.

"Honestly Rogers, keep up."

Steve crossed his arms again. "I'm trying to, _Stark_."

Tony wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I don't like your tone, but I can't blame you for being pissed off. Oh, I almost forget." He placed some cards on the table; they had printed phone numbers on them. "These are emergency numbers, err whadda-we-got, we got electric, gas, water, a doctor-"

Steve scratched his head. "Are they all S.H.E.I.L.D agents?"

Tony shrugged. "Probably, they don't want anybody to know your here. Hell, me being here is a risk." He didn't meet Steve's eyes, if he did he wouldn't seen a look of curiosity but also thankfulness. The radio broke the silence with a crackle and a splutter. Steve turned to look at it, he then frowned. "You dug out my radio?"

"Yeah...hope you don't mind but I needed some music. Forgot my ipod."

"_Let me tell you where to go- go to En-ga-land oh~"_

Tony visibly winced. "Although right now some quiet wouldn't be so bad."

Steve titled his head as he listened to the cheery notes of the song, it was better than that rap music which to him wasn't music at all just some guy yelling over a base beat about money and women. "I think I like this song, never heard it before but it sounds dandy."

Tony chuckled and patted Steve's shoulder. "Wow, 'dandy'? You're just so quaint." Steve's muscles relaxed involuntarily from the touch from under the huge shirt. Tony then seized a sleeve of said shirt and lifted it up to examine it at eye level.

"My clothes don't fit anymore..." Steve mumbled, looking down like a kicked puppy.

Tony muttered "uh huh" before letting the sleeve drop. "We'll add it to the shopping list; in the mean time you could borrow some of mine as long as you don't stain them."

Steve was beginning to feel better; Tony had a generous heart and could actually be comforting when he wanted to be.

"You hungry big guy? I know I am. I'll make us some breakfast."

That was considerably less comforting.

*England Swings (c) Roger Miller


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** Ahoy hoy! This chapter feels like filler...it probably is XD don't worry it'll get better. Oh I really appreciate any ideas you guys have for future chapters, just leave your ideas in your reviews and I'll take a look ^^

Steve could only watch in mostly blank horror as Tony committed breakfast blasphemy in his kitchen. This man could burn water. He actually had once; it was a dare from Bruce. Despite the lack of coordination and chaos Tony hummed a merry tune as he poured a sticky whitish mix into the frying pan. Steve mournfully followed Tony's trail of destruction, mopping up as he want. Tony finally produced from the frying pan what looked like pancakes but they were off somehow. They were a bit to brown for Steve's liking, how to do get from white to brown in under 5 minutes? But he decided to bite the bullet and cleaned his plate. The pancake thing wasn't actually that bad, just the strangest pancake thing Steve had ever eaten. As hot food was a luxury on the frontlines, you'd eat whatever you were given and were in no place to complain. The men would catch rattle snakes and eat them; cooking them first of course.

"Hmpf that was a waste of batter." Tony glumly poked the corner of his own nibbled pancake. "No, really Tony, I think for a first try these were pretty good." Steve interjected.

Tony raised a dark eyebrow too his hairline, he looked like a bewildered predator. "I just wrecked your kitchen and gave you brown pancakes for breakfast –which I can't believe you ate without chucking up –and not only did you clean your fucking plate-" Steve winced at the strong language but choose not to interrupt Tony's rant, he was on a roll. "But you also give an A plus for _effort?_"

His voice was high with disbelief, Steve's eyes didn't meet Tony's (which again looked blue but they couldn't be blue) and he nervously began to shift in his seat.

Had he done something wrong? Stark wasn't easy to offend but sometimes the smallest thing could start a war. The man sitting opposite leaned over the table and naturally Steve leaned back a bit.

"You. I. Don't. Understand. Which bothers me, that's why when we first worked together it was so-" he bit his lip looking for the right word.

"Tense, yeah that's it. T-E-N-S-E."

Steve sat dumbly in his chair, not quite sure what he had just heard or how to respond. He began to speak but each time he cut himself off with a sigh. "So, lemme get this straight." Steve at last accomplished one full sentence and placed his hands flat on the table. "We fought because you didn't understand me? Not because I was being defensive and judgemental?" both of Tony's eyebrow's went up and Steve shut his mouth quickly, with an embarrassed heat creeping up his neck. After an awkward silence the darker haired of the two chuckled, almost shyly Steve figured as his smile was aimed at the ground. "Wow that was deep. Our mouths to brain censors are clearly out of whack. Coffee is needed here." He escaped the table and marched swiftly to the Coffee maker, he had his back to Steve. Steve noted that Tony was wearing suit pants which looked good with his toned kegs and a thin white shirt that complemented the arc reactor. His innocent brain didn't really think anything of it, but other parts of him had other ideas. For some reason his heart rate felt faster than normal, like someone had flicked a switch and speeded it up.

"Umm, why are you in work clothes?"

"Hm? Oh, I slept here last night and I didn't have any pyjama's so..." Tony shrugged. "It's no big deal I slept fully clothed before. " the teaspoon clanked as it was dropped into the sink and Tony carefully placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of his teammate, who smiled in gratitude. "Thank you Tony" was muffled by the mug. Steve noted that his bony long fingers encased the mug perfectly, rather than it being the palm of his hand. It was strange, the episode with breakfast and Tony lack of cooking skills made him forget his current state, if not for a few minutes. "Look big guy." Steve's head shot up from his coffee.

"I-err-how do I put this? I'm going to be staying here for a while. Not like, forever or anything, but me, well, not just me really think that you're in a bad place and you shouldn't be left alone-"

As Stark continued to ramble on (as he did when he was nervous) Steve felt his fingers get unbearably tight and tense around the now cold coffee cup. Before, it would've cracked in his hands but now he couldn't even make a chip. First his strength had been stripped away, his peak physical abilities of which his whole identity had been built on; gone. Next he'd been gently pushed into what would be months of exile and now he wasn't even trusted to wallow in his own self pity. Steve was a person slow to anger, slow to upset, he wasn't the sensitive blushing virgin that Tony liked to think he was. However, he felt his gaze cloud over and his breathing get breathy and heavy. Not once had he been consulted about any of this, not once had someone asked him –

"Are you alright Cap?"

Tony's concerned voice cut thankfully through Steve's incensed daydream and he looked up. "W-what?"

"Are you okay?" Tony repeated, putting emphasis on the "okay".

Steve's mouth went dry his throat felt suddenly constricted as if someone was squeezing his adam's apple. "It's just you look like you might burst into tears. I mean, if you don't me here I totally get it."

Steve suddenly jerked forward in his seat, his eyes bright. "No!" He then withdrew; feeling self conscious. Tony was probably just following orders from Fury, not that he made a habit of it but he'd seen a change in his behaviour at the hospital. He was just as concerned as the rest of the team and under his cool exteriors was probably as scared and bewildered as Steve was about this mess. Besides...some company wouldn't such a bad thing.

"I-I would like you to stay, if you have to go you can but I might need some help around here." He noticed his oven had been decorated with splatters of pancake batter. "...cleaning up for example."

Tony grinned and Steve's innards do the funny butterfly thing again. "Sir, yes sir!"

"That won't last."

"Enjoy the moment."


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors note:** Here's the next chapter ^^ thank you so much for your support.

After the kitchen had been satisfactorily cleansed of all brown sticky maybe-pancake substances, there was only one thing on Tony's mind; clothes. Steve was pulled (quite easily) into his bedroom and his new flatmate began to physically abuse his wardrobe. The idea was to find any item of clothing that would still fit the not-so-super-soldier. Tony's bags were being brought over by the S.H.I.E.L.D agents later and Steve couldn't really spend the rest of the day in a dirty oversized shirt. No matter how appealing he looked, he needed pants. Steve waited patiently on the bed as Tony burrowed deeper into his clothes; he dodged occasionally when Stark threw a piece of clothing over his shoulder in clear disgust. "Jesus, how have the fashion police not got to you yet? I'm tempted to make a citizen's arrest." He held up a brown jumper at arm's length as if it was going to come alive and bite him. Steve could again feel the now common red hotness tingling his ears and cheeks. "My clothes aren't that bad you know." He tried to stick up for himself. "No" Tony said, throwing an offensive sock at Steve. "They are much, much worse."

Eventually a system was put in place; on his left Stark had created a pile of clothes titled 'too big/ugly/must burn' and on his right was another pile entitled 'might fit'. The later pile was much smaller than the former but Steve kept secretly adding to it when he thought Tony wasn't looking.

"Put it back Steve."

Steve sulked as he placed his favourite shirt back on the 'too big/ugly/must burn' pile which was taking up most of the already small carpet space. About 20 minutes later, now out of breath, Tony stopped to examine the carnage behind him. The wardrobe was empty. "Oh, I guess I got a bit carried away –and now I've lost Steve, Steve?" the room did appear to lack Steve, but really the 'too big/ugly/must burn' pile had toppled over and buried him.

"I'm here Tony."

Steve pushed an overly large pair of trousers from his face as he struggled through the mountain of unusable clothes. He couldn't believe he'd been done over by laundry. Tony laughed at him for the first two minutes then waded through the clothes to help his teammate."Don't worry son we'll have you out in no time." Tony said mocking the "Captain America" voice Steve used whilst on duty. Steve thanked Tony under his breath as he was pulled off the floor. "Did you find anything?" he asked hopefully. Stark held up a finger to indicate "one moment please" and pulled from the tiny 'might fit' pile a white t-shirt with a familiar logo on it. Steve smiled when he saw it. It was Tony's turn to feel a strange heat in his ears. That was the first smile, the first real smile he'd seen on Steve's face since the hospital. Fan girls everywhere would commit bloody murder for that smile, but Tony only had to give his teammate a T shirt. This man was clearly not hard to please. Steve took a moment to admire what Tony had managed to find. This T shirt had been sent to him by a fan, among other things with a letter telling him what a hero he was. He didn't deserve such praise and gifts, but he couldn't refuse. At the time he'd tried on the T shirt but it was much too small and he found it difficult to breathe. Tony said it was because Steve refused to disclose his size to the public. It occurred to him that said T shirt could fit him! He slipped it on over his shoulders and it fell about an inch above his knee. Oh well, at least it was smaller than the shirt he'd been wearing.

"Great!" Tony exclaimed "now, pants..." he frowned at the 'might fit' pile as it had no pants whatsoever.

"Hey that's a thought, does any of your underwear fit?"

"TONY!" Steve was beet red and spluttering.

"What? It's no biggie, you can borrow-"

"I am NOT wearing your underwear, I'll already be wearing your pants and the more I think about it the more weird it gets so thanks but no thanks." Steve rubbed his eyes; he had a headache coming on.

"Okay, okay, calm down, don't want to split a pretty blonde hair now do we?" He checked his watch. "The S.H.I.E.L.D supernannies should be here in-" a courteous knock at the door interrupted Tony who blinked in surprise. "Wow, now that is exquisite timing." He left Steve to hide in his bedroom as the agents brought in his things. Steve could hear from the bedroom someone nagging about "delicate machinery" and "expensive clothing". Curiously he snuck down the corridor and poked his head around the corner, and, not surprisingly saw Tony breathing down the neck of a very irritated looking agent as he put Tony's bag down. Steve couldn't suppress a chuckle which made Tony suddenly turn around and Steve dashed like a rabbit back into the bedroom. After he heard the door close the no-so-super-soldier re-emerged from his hiding place and was shocked to see his living room covered in bags, cases, and fireproof boxes. Tony was a man with a lot of things.

"Just the bare essentials" Tony said curtly. "Honestly through, have those guys ever heard of _handle with care_? Humpf." He began to dig like a mole into one of the bigger bags and Steve was left to gawp.

"AH HA!"

Tony pulled triumphantly a pair of jogging bottoms from his bag. "Thank God for elastic, okay big guy." He knelt down by Steve's feet. "Feet, if you would" Steve's toes curled inward with embarrassment. "I can dress myself." He tried to sound assertive but barely pulled off nervous school boy. Tony rolled his eyes. "Would you just hurry up?" So, Steve stepped into the jogging bottoms and Tony swiftly pulled them up to his waist. They were too long in the legs and would need adjusting but for now Steve was just happy he was no longer around Tony in just his underwear.

Also, it was very cold in the apartment.


	8. Chapter 8

The long nights proved difficult for Steve. He'd always been a light sleeper, which, granted was useful on front lines. You could be awoken at any time by an enemy attack by air, land or sea keeping one eye open was essential. Now the noises of the city kept him awake. Sometimes Steve could close his eyes and imagine himself lying in a rickety army cot with his snoring comrades beside him. The occasional gunfire from the surrounding city really set the atmosphere. He expected his commanding officer to march in at any moment and tell him to get his ass in gear for a 5 mile run before breakfast. Of course, he never did.

Steve had a healthy imagination; if he wanted he could picture himself anywhere.

One of his favourite places to "imagine" at this time was Stark Tower. Yeah, that big ugly building in the centre of New York. He'd never thought he'd feel at home there, hell he'd never thought he'd get used to 21st centaury living. It was his teammates that made him feel like he belonged, as their captain he was looked up too, trusted to make impossible decisions within seconds. Because you never know whose life is as risk? Steve missed them dearly, Black Widow's deadly beauty, Hawkeye's wise cracks, Thor's jolly nature, Bruce's shy intellect, he even longed to hear the voice of JARVIS once more.

At least Tony was here keeping him company.

He thought about Tony's kind offer more and more with each passing day trying to unpick his reason for staying, or to put it another way; his unsaid reason. Not that Tony was incapable of spontaneous acts of generosity, but Steve wasn't used to such generosity being given to him. He and Stark didn't exactly hit it off, and was only in the last year that they'd really began to communicate as teammates and see each other as friends. That was a good point, were they friends? Steve shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Normally, it would creak with his great weight but now he could only hear the covers shuffle as he moved. Steve considered again that maybe Tony really was here under Fury's orders and not of his own volition, what if he hated it here? What if he was lying in bed like Steve was, thinking of a good enough excuse to leave? A horrible churning sensation in the not-so-super soldier's stomach made him feel like chucking up. He threw the covers off his body and found that his frail body and long spiderlike limps were coated in hot sweat. The room suddenly felt like a furnace in hell, the walls were burning and closing in on Steve in his bed.

He needed to escape.

Delicately rising from the bed, he wobbled unsteadily to his bedroom door. Then his bony fingers weakly turned the knob and Steve nearly fell threw it with his incoming dizziness. His vision now a bleary mixture of black, lights from outside and furniture hidden in shadows. It was like walking blindly in a dark impressionist oil painting. Memory of the layout of the apartment lead Steve to his couch were he happily collapsed, wincing as his stomach did a back-flip. He was no cooler; in fact, just walking from his bedroom had made him sweat even more. A shower would have been wonderful, but he knew the risk involved with potentially scalding water, skull shattering surfaces were amplified when you could barely see your own hand in front of your face. So instead sleeping was his only option. It was difficult, because he would awaken to the horrid reaching and groaning of his stomach. Good god what had he eaten? The serum had given him insides made of steel so really he could have swallowed acid and he'd been fine. However, before the serum he was prone to food poisoning and flu due to his weak immune system. Inside he felt an annoyance creeping in, he'd only been out of action for less than three weeks and he was already at deaths door. Well, maybe not at deaths door but after years of never getting sick this was really something.

He couldn't pin the blame on Tony's cooking because Steve himself had cooked their meal tonight.

Tony was coming back late from a mission and Steve knew that he wouldn't eat unless it was placed right in front of him. It was also the first mission that the Avengers had done without Steve, somewhat of a strange special occasion. For the entire 6 hours Steve couldn't pry himself away from his seat in the kitchen; staring at the clock as time dragged by. Tony had assured him before he left that everything was fine, but he was as uncomfortable about the lack of Captain America as Steve was. When Tony finally arrived back, bruised and exhausted Steve was bounced around him like a puppy who's pleased to see you; he demanded to know how the mission went. Tony silenced him by wearily relaying all the details with Steve often making a comment on how things could've been done quicker or how fewer injuries could've been sustained. One thing he was happy about was the fact that Tony was now in charge; he'd been Steve's second in command so it was only fair. Also, Tony had the right stuff to lead the team well, in his heart (metaphorically) and in his head.

Through his fever Steve became dimly aware of liquid dripping down his forehead and something cold was pressed to his temple. A comforting blue-ish light filled his vision.

Tony was awake.

Cool knuckles were placed gently to Steve's face and then a gentle hand turned his head a little to the right; towards the arc reactor light. Despite himself, Steve whimpered quietly and nuzzled Tony's palm.

"Shhh, it's me Steve, look, you have a fever okay? I'm going to call a doctor. Don't you move." Steve didn't really catch most of what was said but he was just happy to hear a familiar voice through the haze.

Tony scurried to the phone whilst Steve muttered and mumbled incoherently, drifting in and out of his fever dream. He couldn't find the number for the doctor fast enough.

"Hello? This is Tony Stark. I was told me to call this number if I needed a doctor. Yeah –Look, my friend is really sick. He's got a fever and is delirious, what? No he's not throwing up yet. Just –can you come real quick? 10 minutes? Sure, thank you Doctor. Please hurry."


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors note: **Another chapter and more filler O.o I promise I'll try harder.

Tony is more in character this time around. Yay.

Steve yawned loudly and felt tightness in his stomach and an unpleasant taste coated his mouth. He must've thrown up. Now it was mid morning; the warm sunlight was cut into sections by the apartment blinds but it still managed to illuminate the room. Steve's eyes opened slowly and took in his surroundings. He was still sprawled out on his couch. As his hearing began to wake up he became aware of the sound of breathing just next to him. He looked downward and saw Tony curled up on the floor in boxer shorts and a tank top; he was fast asleep. Cautiously Steve's fingers touched the sleeping man's shoulder lightly; when he didn't stir Steve nudged him a little harder. Tony's face twitched as he eyes opened, those eyes again, Steve could've sworn on his mother they were blue but it would be odd considering his teammates dark colouration. That or stunningly beautiful. The shape of the eyes themselves reminded Steve of Maria, Tony's mother, who didn't seem far away when the not-so-super-soldier looked at him. He knew how much people thought Tony was just like his father Howard Stark (and how much Tony resented that fact), but really, Steve could see much more of Maria. It didn't take much; all you had to do is really _look._

"Oh, you're alive then? Good... "Tony grumbled, he shifted uncomfortably on the hard floor. "Yep. No more sleeping on wooden floors." He slowly, stiffly, sat up and stretched and yawned without covering his mouth giving Steve a gust of morning breath. He made a disgusted noise in response and leant back. "For a minute there I could've sworn you were disappointed." Steve said with a small, tired smile even though his throat was so dry it hurt to talk. Tony gave him a look; a look that was pure exhaustion with a touch of an irritated parent. "Because, of course, staying up all night and mopping up your vomit was all part of my evil plot to kill you." Steve blinked at him for a long time and Tony winced.

"God that sounded whiney, am I a whiner now? Eugh, hey that came out wrong okay? Just take that –that I dunno, that kicked puppy look somewhere else Capsicle."

His tone made Steve regret what he'd said. Inwardly he made a note that Tony was a human being with touchy feely feelings and not an empty shell with a human face. To make amends he offered to make Tony some coffee, who made a sleepy noise in the affirmative. Steve got up and made his way into the kitchen, the coffee pot was waiting for him. A few minutes later Steve brought two steaming cups into the living room where Tony had now moved to the couch. He shuffled along to allow Steve to take his place next to him. He sank into it, almost spilling the coffee. Tony grabbed his cup from Steve's hand greedily and took a swig, Steve's eyes widened. The drink was very hot and he was surprised Tony didn't burn his tongue.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome Tony"

Steve gently blew into his own mug to cool it, and then took a tiny slip. It soothed his dry mouth and he was grateful for it. "You make good coffee." Tony added, with an absent look. He took another swing, inhaling the rest of the liquid with gusto. Steve wasn't even halfway through his yet; he couldn't understand how Tony drank it so quickly.

"What do you remember from last night?"

The question took Steve completely by surprise, he had to pause and look at Tony with a confused expression. The question hung in the air with the smell of coffee until Steve answered in a small voice.

"Not much...It's sorta fuzzy, I remember feelin' really sick. Oh, and I got to the couch but that was a struggle –heck I'm surprised I got here without passing clean out and –wha, what? Tony why are you sniggering?"

Tony wasn't quite sniggering, more chuckling in a pleasantly surprised sort of way. Like, for example your 5 year old shows you an unflattering drawing of yourself but there's so much effort and love put into it that you can't help but laugh. Stark bit his lip to try and control himself, it didn't really work. Steve was very keen to know what exactly was so gosh darn (that's as explicit as he gets folks) funny about him nearly passing out from a fever.

"You have a Brooklyn accent just now. "

Steve went red. Flaming red, his face matched his captain boots and the coffee mug nearly slipped from his fingers. His mouth was suddenly dry again, and not from his vomiting episode. This dryness was impairing his ability to string a coherent sentence together without sounding like a tool. Or, without sounding like a tool from Brooklyn.

"Hey, it's not a big thing right? I mean I noticed before but I didn't say anything. It's just...really obvious for some reason, heh, maybe it's this _cawfee_!" Tony let out a load unrestrained laugh, obviously thinking himself utterly hilarious. Steve did not. In fact he gave Tony his best swat with the pillow he'd been hiding behind in mortification, but it wouldn't off hurt him. It would have barely startled a baby deer. Too be fair it wasn't really a secret, Steve was born in Brooklyn so one plus one equals two he would have a Brooklyn accent. It's just he wished he didn't. His parents were Irish, their smooth yet cheery voices sounded nothing like the other people he knew as a child, which made them special. He felt out of place, he wanted to speak like they spoke but he couldn't do an Irish accent to save his life, and, when he suddenly turned up at school one day greeting his classmates with "top of the morning!" they didn't hesitate to tell him how weird it was. He was actually sent out of classroom because the teacher thought he was being funny. So, instead he just emphasized his vowels as nicely as he could and hoped for the best. It was a flawless plan until now. Damned cawfee, err, _coffee._

"...Geez, are you okay? I was kidding you know. My father was from –well, yeah so it's not like I _dislike_ it, it's just I wasn't expecting it but its sounds so –AHEM, lets never speak of it again. You can go back to your Captain America voice. I won't make fun."

Tony could've talked his way out of Hades. Steve was still red in the face but inside he felt more comfortable. More relaxed around his teammate and –hello, Tony draped an arm around Steve's tiny shoulders without much difficulty. Steve wanted to curl into the gesture, let Tony that this is just what he needs and wants but instead he played safe. He gave Tony a sideways glance and a huff that imitated begrudging forgiveness but wasn't half convincing. Seriously though, he couldn't have been any happier in that moment.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve suppressed a shiver as the nice, pretty doctor Tony had sent for (he really didn't have too) applied a chilly stethoscope to his frail chest. According to Tony, this check up after the fever episode was just encase Steve was carrying anything contagious that Tony himself may die from. Oh the horror.

"Okay Sweetie, breath in."

Steve felt his masculinity shrivel up and he squirmed, embarrassed and Tony who was leaning on a wall causally, bit his lip to stop his giggle. But he breathed in obediently, and then out on the doctor's orders. She _was_ pretty, with red hair loosely tied up in a bun with silky stands dangling by her ears. Her eyes were soft and comforting, she wore minimal make up but her skin looked smooth and flawless. Steve looked past her for a moment as she examined him and looked towards Tony, who winked at him and mouthed "get in there captain." He should've been offended; he should've scolded Tony for having a dirty mind and disrespecting a lady but instead he let out a small, sighing laugh. Honestly, the thought of him even trying to –looking like _this_, was hilarious to Steve. The doctor tucked her equipment delicately back into her sleek, black briefcase and pulled out a pen, clicked it, then produced a note pad.

"So, do you have any other health problems sweetie?" she asked, as if she was addressing a toddler.

Steve felt like saying, "I have a name you know, and your getting pretty patronising pretty quickly" for some reason his inner monologues had adopted his Captain America voice. There was an awkward silence before Tony piped up "Erm, two things, how much paper do you have and how much time have you got?"

Steve sighed, defeated and scratched the back of his neck as if it would make him feel better. "I don't where to start." The doctor offered him a sweet smile, a smile she would give to a pouty child who needed an injection. "Well, do you have any allergies?"

"Pollen, strawberries, blueberries, and soy and shellfish." Steve listed his allergies as quickly as he could, he hoped to move this conversation along and free himself from prying and pitying eyes. Tony's mouth dropped open and was left to hang there; Steve hated that look and stared stubbornly at the floor of the apartment.

"You...that's like, dammit Rogers! You didn't think to tell me this!? What if I'd given you a blueberry muffin! Or put soy in your _Cawfee,_ yeah I went there."

"I would've said no thank you?"

"- a one way trip to the emergency room, I thought keeping secrets was bad!" his pitch had a highness to it that was reminiscent of a worrying girlfriend or scolding parent. Neither roles suited Tony, nor did Steve like to picture him as such. Besides if he and Tony dated each other he'd probably end up being "the girl" anyway.

Okay, wow, where had that chain of thought come from?

The doctor looked up from her notes and asked, politely enough "anything else?" clearly unsuspecting. Steve was once more at a loss as to where to start, he made a let-me-think face and began to list all of his medical annoyances, irritations and unspoken pains to the women in front of him.

"Anaemia, asthma, eczema, insomnia, heart murmur, low blood sugar, vertigo-"

"Are you fucking doing these alphabetically?" Tony was so great at being concerned and comforting.

Steve ignored Tony and carried on listing, he found it strangely therapeutic and felt a huge weight slowly being lifted from his shoulders and he carried on. He also found it gratifying that the doctor was struggling to keep up with him and was writing so fast he was surprised her hands weren't blurred like a cartoon running. However, Steve was Steve and puny or not he had his morals and couldn't stay mad for long, so he slowed down so she could catch up. She _was_ very pretty. Strangely, Tony was looking very handsome too; apart from his mildly horrified expression that Steve had never seen before. Oh, he had once; it was when he asked Tony "what's so great about Star wars?"

His dark chocolate brown hair, almost ebony, was combed back in the flimsiest of ways, with his fingers, and even his beard looked dishevelled. Was that possible? for Tony Stark maybe. It fit though, Steve liked seeing Tony like this; his defences were down, he looked human. When Steve came to a stop Tony eyed him like he'd eyed the jello at the hospital. "How the hell are you still alive?" he even tried to poke him but Steve blocked the incoming finger with a bat of his hand.

"You know, you're not the first and heck, probably not the last to ask me that." Steve couldn't help himself; he felt the corners of his mouth tug as the smile snuck onto his face. It was the stare Tony was giving him, curiosity, and wonder; with a hint of WTF and IDK (yeah Steve was picking up text speech fast). The feeling of being a mangy circus animal being gaped at didn't seem to apply with Tony, because Tony never treated him like one. Even at the opposite end of the spectrum; when Steve could've crushed his skull with his fingers, Tony still didn't let that fact effect how he saw him. Tony wasn't blinkered, he wasn't judgemental, he was just –OWW!

The doctor had sneakily taken a blood sample when he was making goo-goo eyes at Tony. She was obviously a ninja in her spare time, oh dear, Steve was beginning to have a 21st century thought process. At least it hadn't gotten to LOL cat level.

"Well done sweetie" the doctor chirps, and Steve has lost all dignity at this point so gives up trying to preserve any and, for the first time in a long time, sulks a little. This does not go unnoticed by Tony, who for once, decides to help a soldier out and goes over and pats Steve's shoulder and says "you got any lollipops?" and she actually does.

"She was kinda hot" Tony muses his eyes lingering at the door after the doctor has left. Steve grumbles, his words are muffled by the lollipop in his mouth and his fingers trail over the pile of lollipops in his lap. Tony eye's an orange one and licks his lips. "Can I have one?" he flashes his best business I know-you-want-to smile. Steve raises his eyebrow.

"Sure thing. But you gotta catch me first."


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors note:** sorry for the lateness, I've been really busy.

After the madness of the last month or so (and that's saying a lot for a member of the avengers) things seemed to, at last, settle down into strange routine. Steve could deal, because it's routine and rules that keeps things from falling apart at the seams. Tony had adapted surprising well to living in an apartment, one whose entire floor space was equal to one bedroom at his mansion. Apart from singing "livin in a box" a few times that made Steve flush Tony didn't complain. The two of them would get up around 8, which was practically mid day to Steve, but he found it difficult to sleep at night and wouldn't doze off till early morning. Then they'd have breakfast, and if Steve was cooking it would be eggs, bacon, beans, the whole works but if Tony was cooking it would be coffee and brown pancake-things. Tony ate quickly; he didn't savour his meals which bothered Steve.

What's the point of eating at all if you don't even allow yourself to taste it?

The armour had been delivered to the apartment by S.H.I.E.L.D so Tony could tinker with it at his leisure, despite the lack of a proper lab space. Sometimes Ton would be at the kitchen table, sometimes in the living room and Steve once found him in his wardrobe; working on a bot, covered in a sticky black substance along with Steve's clothes. The apartment now had little signs of Tony's presence everywhere, like the unwashed coffee cups littered on the surfaces, the smell of motor oil, and the fridge mysteriously containing many more bottles of alcohol than Steve remembered putting in there. He'd shake his head wearily and remember to chastise Tony later about his alcoholic tendencies. Annoying though these little markers were it was a strangely comforting reminder that he wasn't alone. That in his extremely complicated, sometimes tragic, and short but long life there was an invisible safety net ready to catch him.

Safety nets, however, tend to have holes.

Steve wasn't sure when the boredom began to set in, it was like a horrid scavenger following a dying antelope; occasionally nipping at its heels until the animal gave out and allowed itself to be consumed. Steve certainly had the physique of a dying antelope make no mistake, his morale was slowly sinking to that level, true, but inner stubbornness and fear masked as optimism kept him sane. It was worse when Tony was out, on missions, at meetings, even if he just went for a beer run Steve could feel the loneliness being echoed by the walls and bounce around the empty rooms. He'd put the radio on; just to hear another person's voice. It helped a little, but when the old thing heaved its last spluttering breath and finally gone to meet its maker (looking at the age of the radio, the company probably no longer existed.) Steve was quite upset; he sat in the living room, clutching the thing it his hands in anguish and didn't move until Tony came back. Who immediately put it on his to-do list which was already a mile long, so it would be a while before Steve could listen to the radio again. Tony, to be fair, offered to buy him a new one but Steve didn't want to impose; besides, it was that radio or nothing else. Daytime TV and Steve didn't really see eye to eye, except for maybe "Murder she Wrote" which was compelling, entertaining and full of mystery and that Miss Marple certainly seemed like an intelligent gal. It was on once a day for about two hours so that was filler in not so hectic schedule but Steve still had 22 hours (apart from when he slept) during the day to kill. The quietness ate into his brain and soul.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floorboards was like an incredible awakening.

Steve had just wanted some orange juice, he preferred apple but they were out of that so he picked orange instead. He'd peered into the cupboards on his tippy toes looking for something clean to drink out of. He spotted a glass which was hiding just out his reach. Determined not to get a box to stand on, he stretched his arm as far as it would go. Steve could feel the coolness of the glass against his fingertips and then the rush and surprise as the glass shot by his ear. The sound of shattering glass vibrated though the entire apartment and Steve felt his heartbeat suddenly rush in his chest. His tried to calm himself with slow breaths but the unexplained rush stayed. He looked at the pieces which littered the floor, chillingly reminiscent of chips of ice.

Something had happened. Something unexpected, for the first time in weeks.

Steve slowly looked back into the cupboard and spotted another glass, he reached for it. It sat motionless in his palm as he gazed at it, the light from the light bulb above shimmering as it was slowly rotated. Then Steve spotted the wall in his peripheral vision.

Without thinking he tossed the glass towards it.

However, half way though he seemed to awake from his sudden need to wreck the kitchen and his throw lost momentum. The glass, strangely, didn't shatter. It did, however, crack. Steve was both disappointed and grateful, in a daze he went to pick the glass from the floor. He'd forgotten about the broken glass on the floor. He yelped in agony as the shards sank into the sole of his left foot. He hopped to the couch and was horrified to see he'd left a trail of blood behind him.

"Good god I'm going insane..." he sighed quietly. "Tony, please be home soon."


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors note:** Once again sorry for the lateness. Thanks for putting up with me guys.

"Steve! I'm back, hey, sorry about being a bit late, am I late? It's just fucking Nick Fury and his Agent, I swear to god –oh, I just remembered some good new –wait, it that, glass? Is that glass on the floor and, oh please tell me that's ketchup...no it's _not _ketchup, whose blood is-oh of course it's yours and, why are you holding your foot- OH GOD what did you do?!"

Tony had come home, well not home for him but home for Steve. Who was struggling with tears forming in his eyes to as he tried to pick out the last stubborn shard of glass from his foot. It hurt like a bitch. He hadn't cleaned up the mess, and he regretted it. Tony dramatically threw down his briefcase and rushed to Steve's side, looking very worried for his friend. "It's nothing." Steve said, which was an automatic response, and the biggest lie he'd told in a long time. It wasn't nothing, he wasn't fine, and he'd just suffered a mildly _psychotic episode_ and had begun to wreck the kitchen. His own kitchen, which was splattered with his own blood! Steve's chain of thought is interrupted when Tony takes his foot into his lap and takes the tweezers that Steve's been using to rid his sole of unwanted glass. Steve intakes a sharp breath. "What are you-?"

Tony bites his lip. "Sorry about this big guy.." without warning the tweezers are dug into Steve's soft heel, he yowls in pain and grabs the nearest cushion to bury his face into it. He grips it to tight he nearly shreds it and Tony strokes his cheek with his free hand. When it was over, Tony showed Steve a piece of glass the size of the broken graphite end of a pencil. "Little bitch." Murmured Tony and placed the offending glass with the other shards all the while still stroking Steve's cheek.

"Hmmmmm, no-stopit."

Tony raised an eyebrow, an amused eyebrow. "What was that?"

"stop-pettingme-I'm not-huuuhhmmmmm a dog."

Tony sniggered and cooed. "No just the cutest little puppy-wuppy ever."

Steve was bright red, his head shot up from his cushion and he glared his scariest glare at Tony despite the fact that Tony had just saved his foot. "Is that what I am now? _A pet?_ To be kept indoors all the time?" his voice was rising and Tony looked concerned. "I am not a pet! _Jesus wept!_ I'm Captain America who saved the world so many times-I don't even know how many times, and as soon as I get into trouble I'm dropped like a stone and locked away in my own apartment, I haven't heard a word from S.H.E.I.L.D about fixing me and on top of that I'M GOING INSANE." Steve had lost control, his voice was shrill and he wasn't even yelling at Tony anymore, everything just poured out like a broken hydrant: drenching everything. A cool hand on his shoulder slowed Steve down a little, but he continued to ramble.

"I feel so useless! Just sitting here like a carcass while the Avengers put their lives at risk and I can't help them! What if something happens! I'm the leader, I'm responsible! But I'm not am I? Not anymore BECAUSE I COULDN'T EVEN DRAG MY OWN SHEILD ACROSS THE FLOOR LET ALONE FIGHT-" Steve suddenly became aware that there was no breath in his lungs, he choked and spluttered but it was as if someone was stabbing him in the chest and back with a knife. He was having an asthma attack.

_Oh god please not now_

He was wheezing horribly and Steve's open mouth searched for any air it could find, Tony shook him and said something, loudly, but Steve's heartbeat was in his ears and he couldn't pick up any other noises. Just like that time with Loki, it seemed like a distant memory; surrounded in fog that accumulates in the mind, and over time, engulfing what's there to be replaced by something new. Tony had fled the room, where had he gone? Why had he left? Was Steve going to be left alone to suffocate? His own mortality hit Steve like a sledge hammer; the very real very close possibly of dying threatened to drive out his reason. Especially dying like this; a pitiful, badly made, diseased little wretch.

He could breathe again.

Tony was holding his asthma pump to Steve's mouth and pressing the button frantically, coaxing his friend the medicine to work its magic. Steve grabbed the hand and took a great inhale of the medicine, the pain faded to tiredness and tingling. Not a nice sort of tingling. The two men stayed frozen there for some time, waiting for Steve's breathing to regulate. Then, slowly Steve pushed Tony's hand away and gave a low humourless chuckle. He barely had the puff for it. "I can't even get mad without almost dying." He felt Tony wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders, a masculine yet still affectionate gesture.

"Hey-hey, hey, hey enough of that okay? You have no idea how much you mean to –the team, yeah the team, god I should never have let those idiots keep you here Steve I'm so sorry." He squeezed Steve's shoulders and Steve's head flopped down on Tony's shoulder. It was warm there.

"This is my fault, fucking Tony Stark screwing things up again –"

"No...no Tony it's not you honest I just cannot live here alone anymore without doing something, _I'm climbing the walls_."

Tony left Steve for a moment, and Steve almost whimpered for him not to go, but he returned quickly enough with his briefcase. He opened it on the table and pulled out a sketch pad. Steve's sketchpad, the one he thought he'd lost months back at Stark tower. Tony placed it in Steve's lap and he stared down at it, he fondled the dog-eared edges; to check it wasn't an illusion. "God...Tony where did you even? I lost it –"

"Say thanks and we'll say no more."

Steve could feel his mouth curve into a smile, the first smile in days, a warm feeling filled his chest and he looked at Tony who was clearly is avoiding his gaze, embarrassed.

"Oh no you don't." Steve climbs over to Tony and wraps his tiny arms around the now bigger man's neck and tucks his head neatly into the crook. Tony is still, frozen, unsure of what to do next. Heterosexual males _do not_ hug like this.

Steve was very happy Tony was home, he smelled nice.


	13. Chapter 13

_Authors note: OMG how many more chapters? Yay for Thor. Yesh. _

**Next Chapter**

Steve spent the entirety of the next day sketching, Tony said that his hand would go numb and drop off. Which reminded Steve of the time he got frostbit when he was ten and Tony was all shades of horrified, and he turned up the heating, just to be safe. Steve didn't care if his hand fell off; drawing stirred inside a feeling of splendour and happiness that he'd thought had drained out of him.

Steve gently guided his pencil over his half completed drawing, darkening the lines of the buildings and people on the page. He'd been trying to draw his old neighbourhood from memory; it was proving tricky. This scared Steve, his memory was fading; he'd had to process so much since he'd been un-frozen that old information had been forced out, silently, and suddenly. He hadn't even though about Bucky for a whole two weeks... was that bad of him? Was it disrespectful? He would never, ever forget his old friend but thinking about him made Steve feel melancholy. Also, it made him feel alone, very much alone. The pencil was tight in his thin delicate fingers, tension shot up Steve's arm and into his shoulder. It hurt a little. He allowed his head to fall back onto the wall behind him and his eyes drifted towards the window; towards the outside world. It was early afternoonish time, Steve had managed to nibble a cheese sandwich for lunch but otherwise wasn't hungry. A sudden sounding of the national anthem made Steve spring from his spot on the floor with an unmanly yelp. His Iphone whatsit was ringing. He discarded the pad and rushed to pick it up from the nearby table. He knew before answered who it would be. Or rather, who he hoped it would be.

"Tony?" he questioned, hopefully.

"It's me big guy."

Steve relaxed, the strain on his shoulders melted away and he warmed to the sound of Tony's voice. He sounded a little bit out of breath.

"Are you okay Tony?" Steve asked, he tried to sound conversational, but inside he knew that Tony had probably just finished a mission.

"Me, c'mon I'm Tony Stark I'm always okay! Err, we just finished a mission-would you believe it, GIANT MUTANT BUNNY RABBITS! And Hydra agents, ahem, I mean, original, true, fluffy, true, but damn hard to kill in any shape or form."

Steve laughed, loudly. "Bunny rabbits? Gosh, I wish I'd been there to see ..." he sentence drifted off and he felt a familiar sense of worthlessness creeping into his gut. He should've have been there to see.

Tony must've felt Steve's emotions though the phone line, because he rapidly changes the subject. "Yeah that's right, you know something funny? We're in Brooklyn; I think it's ummm 50th street?"

Steve lit up almost immediately. "That's not too far away, walking distance, hey-is the whole team there?"

"Yeah."

Steve had an idea, a bright idea that made him catch his breath. "I could come around and meet you." There was no holding back his eagerness.

"I—I don't know about that big guy I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with-"

"No, no, no, it's okay! It's more than okay! It's really, _great!_" Steve began to scurry around the apartment in a frantic search for footwear. He held the phone in place with his shoulder as he hopped on one foot trying to force his sneakers on. "Yeah-Tony—no, I want to see the guys, Coulson doesn't have to know, yeah, okay bye." Steve hung up and dashed to the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out and cringing as it all but drowned him. Oh well, the weather was changing and he felt the cold.

Tony stood in silence after Steve hung up on him, biting his lip as he brain began to chug along at a mile a minute. He looked over shoulder to see his fellow avengers, battle scarred and breathing heavily. Clint had a brand new head wound which was bleeding like a bitch; he looked dizzy and should've been standing.

"What did he say?" asked Natasha, narrowing her eyes into familiarly dangerous slits. Tony let out a breath. "He's coming round' to say hi." He replied, his voice an octave higher than intended. Clint goggled at him. "What? He can't! Didn't you just-" he gestured to Tony's helmet. Tony glared and said through clenched teeth. "Look, I tried didn't I? You didn't hear him—god, it was like Christmas had come early!"

Clint angrily closed the gap between him and Tony, shaking on his legs with concussion. "That's not good enough! If SHEILD catches him hear we'll all get it and he might even get kicked off the-!"

Two large, warm hands closed on the men's shoulders and drew them apart; it was Thor. "My brothers in arms, quarrelling like this will do no good." His voice was level, which was odd for Thor. "We are all aware the orders we were given regarding our shield brother, alas, it seems he has not been properly informed of what may happen if he comes into contact with us." He eyed Tony. "I cannot understand why this is exactly, but, let's not dwell on past mistakes. Upon his arrival we shall inform Steven of the situation and send him back to his home with our good wishes." He smiled, oh so happy with this plan. Clint opened his mouth to protest but instead nearly puked on the sidewalk and Tony suggested he should be soon to. For once, Natasha agreed with him and, supporting Clint by taking his arm over her shoulders began to lead him off and contact SHIEILD to pick them up. Tony watched them go wearily and, by chance, turned his head to peer in the opposite direction He saw Steve, running as fast as it stringy legs would allow with a beaming smile on his face. He'd give himself another asthma attack.

Jesus.

Tony wanted the ground to swallow him up, was that really too much to ask?


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors note:** Update at last O.o it's a bit rushed. Apologies.

Steve had spotted his teammates for the first time in weeks and he honest to god flew down to them. As he ran he felt the uncomfortable tightness of his asthma creeping into his chest which made him wheeze worryingly. He didn't care though, the avengers, his team, his _friend,_ the people he'd give his life to protect were just at the end of the street. Steve could've been hit by a frat train and it would've stopped him. Although, he was inwardly relieved when he finally reached the other Avengers after what seemed an eternity of running. Steve grasped Tony's armoured shoulder for balance for was more than happy to oblige, if not a little started from the small man nearly crashed into him.

"Guys –I, just –you guys..." Steve was breathing very hard and words tumbled from his mouth before he could form a coherent sentence. His cheeks were red from exhaustion but he kept on smiling like it was his birthday. At first he failed to notice the absence of Clint and Natasha and the sullen looks from the remaining team. When the pain in his lungs eased Steve had the energy to stand up to his full height (which wasn't very high) and greet his friends properly.

"Steven, it is very good to see you again." Thor said kindly, it lacked the normal vigour of his normal hellos but again Steve was too wrapped up in his own joy to pay attention to it. The god pulled the small man into a hug, Steve nearly disappeared into Thor's hulking mass (no pun intended Bruce) of body armour, cape, and pectorals. Steve was a little bit jealous, just a bit. When Thor let him go Steve gave Bruce a respectful yet still fond grip of the shoulder, sliding a little so that he could rub his thumb of the de-hulked man's neck. "Holding up okay Dr Banner?" Bruce gave a long suffering sigh, still recovering from his time as the other guy. "As much as I can Captain Rogers." He offered a smile which looked sad and detached. Tony shuffled uncomfortably and kept checking with JARVIS to see if any SHIELD personnel were nearby. This was a major risk, he'd let Steve have his moment... but they really couldn't linger.

"Where are Clint and Natasha?"

There was brief but painfully awkward silence. "Clint was injured and Natasha took him to get-"

"Clint got hurt?!" Steve's blue eyes widened with worry. "Where is he now?"

Tony tried to calm the no so super soldier. "Don't worry, don't worry, SHIELD is coming to pick them up and-"

"We need to go with them, make sure every things okay." The small man did a very good impression of his captain America voice, being in the company if his friends brought his confidence flooding back and an inner tingling brought on by authority and respect thought to be lost filled his soul. It warmed him through and through, sadly, it wasn't too be.

"...Just about to suggest that Cap! Whadda you know? Great minds think alike and all that ummm Thor? Bruce? Why don't you go on ahead? I... I need to clear some things with Captain America."

The use of Steve's full hero name made him feel ten feet taller; it was so good to be back in the swing. If only he had his shield, his costume then he'd really feel like his old self once more. But he couldn't shake this feeling, that something was terribly wrong. Nevertheless he looked at Tony with a curious openness and god damn those big blue eyes...

"Tony? What is it?"

"God how do I say this? Steve, you-you can't go to the hospital and see Clint."

Steve's expression quickly melted into shock then upset and he stiffened his tiny shoulders. "What? Why? He needs us Tony!" he sounded so earnest, he tried to be strong but the wobble in his voice all but broke Tony's already glitch metal heart.

Tony had to be calm; he had to be the emotional stronghold because this was going to be messy. He took in a breath, slow and deep, and continued in a gentle tone. "SHIELD has forbidden the Avengers apart from me to have any contact with you of any sort. As you know, the public haven't got a clue about your current stat Steve, its gotta stay that way or-I don't even wanna know what'll happen if ANYONE gets wind of this, I'm surprised Loki has blabbed it all over the villain chat room." The thought of Loki made Tony boil in his armour, he'd never wanted to vaporise anyone before, but there was a first time for everything. "The point is big guy, it that you can't be here..c'mon lets go." He tried to take Steve's hand but the blonde snapped it away in fury, his gaze could've melted the suit. "No! This is my team! I'm the Captain, I'm _responsible._"

"And I'm responsible for you!" Tony shot back.

"_I don't need you to-!"_

Tony's alarms began to ring as Jarvis reported that SHEILD agents were not too far away. He needed to get Steve out of there _now._ Acting purely in impulse, he grabbed the smaller man and with on a whim shot into the air with thrusters 30 percent. Steve had flown with him before, sure, it had been awkward, clumsy even; they hadn't worked out the kinks yet. Today, with Steve wriggling and swearing as he was lifted made things even more difficult. Tony continued upward into the sky, and once high enough the man in his arms let out a shriek and clung to him like a Koloa.

"ANTONY STARK!"

"Yep?"

"PUT ME DOWN!"

"Sure?"

"WAIT! NONONONO! PUT ME ON THE GROUND!"

"No cap, you need to calm down."

The smaller man snarled and kicked Tony in the groin, which would hurt, if Steve had any muscle to speak of and Tony wasn't wearing the armour. Steve deeply regretted it as he rubbed the pain away from his left leg. His blue eyes threatened to leak tears; it was just all so _unfair. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors note:** It'll all be over soon O.o thanks for sticking with it ^^

The two men drifted in the air, Steve clinging tightly to Tony's metal form and he buried his face into the other's man's neck so he wouldn't have to look down. He was really quite glad of it, he didn't want Tony to see his face, to see how upset he was allowing himself to become. His body was limb like a fish taken out of the water, exposed, vulnerable, _and miserable._ Steve Rogers had cried himself to sleep on the day he found out that everyone he knew in the world was dead and the world he's lived in and tried so hard to protect was nothing but history. Forgotten history, no even in living memory, he was an artefact, a physical embodiment of a way of life and values that no longer existed. Steve thought he wonder through the rest of his life, however long that may be, not being able to fit himself into this new flash modern society.

He'd drift and eventually fade away like the people he'd left behind over 70 years ago.

But then...he found a place, he found people like him, gifted individuals who were willing to give their all to keep the peace of New York and the world. They'd fought aliens, Norse gods, mutants, the stuff of movies and legends had filled his everyday life which exhausted and thrilled him. For a fleeting moment, when Captain America was born, Steve had asked himself:

What is my purpose? Really? I am a mascot? Or, am I soldier? Fighting to see that America stays free and that I keep the hopes and dreams of the good people of this nation alive?

When Steve had been called "a Chorus girl" it stung, he'd been called worse, sure, but Peggy was right there and he'd suddenly felt like he could personally strangle each Hydra Agent with his bare hands if it would prove his worth. As a very, very great Doctor once said "a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion" and ever since the death of that Doctor Steve had sworn to use his strength as best he could for as long as he could, staying on the straight and narrow and filling the suit of Captain America.

_Now, I've lost my strength. _

This unique gift that men had slaved to create with years of tried and failed testing, this unique gift that brought a spark of light to the seemingly endless tunnel of a very dark time, and, most potent of all, this unique gift that only Steve had been granted and a man had given his life to grant just that.

Steve felt stranded up creek without a paddle. He'd never felt like this before, the stubborn fire in his belly that had burned and kept him warm while he was frozen in the ice had faded. The little guy he used to be was different to the little guy he was now, he'd tasted the sweet, sweet taste of respect, admiration,_ love, _which were all perks of the Serum, his serum. He wanted it back he wanted his team back, he wanted...

"Cap? You still with me?"

Tony had enough since not to ask if the smaller man was "okay", but Tony knew that the self sacrificing noble as hell Captain golden boy wouldn't give him a straight answer. Tony had himself been asked that same question many times, and every time he answered the same way and that was the biggest lie he'd ever told.

_I'm fine_

The blonde mop of hair shifted at Tony's shoulder and cap looked him in the face for the first time in a while and Tony thought he'd be decent and let Cap see his own face too. The face plate shot upward with a clunk that suggested a fault somewhere but that wasn't Tony's biggest problem right now. Steve sniffed a little, his blue eyes were watery and it made Tony's Arc reactor sink (metaphorically).

"Umm, I-" Steve took a moment to compose himself, putting on his typical brave soldier mask and managed to give Tony a look which protected outer solidarity but inner sorrow. "I think I'm good." His eyes darted downwards to the ground for a second and then back to his transport. "Not that that this isn't fun or anything, but. I'd like to go back on the ground. Please?"

Tony chuckled and Steve shifted to a more comfortable position in his arms, but, it was by no means less embarrassing. He ended up straddling Tony's hip, and as they began to descend Tony rocked Steve gently like a toddler.

"You okay pumpkin?" the older man cooed, grinning not unlike Loki. Steve scowled at him. "Just put me down." He said, deadpan, not unlike Nick Fury.

"Okay."

Tony let go and Steve yelped and flailed his awkward limbs as he fell.

About two metres before hitting the ground. Oh.

Steve groaned and uncurled from hard uncomforting concrete and looked over his shoulder to see Tony hovering just a little above the ground and still with a smug smirk. When Steve tried to make him burst into flames with his gaze Tony shrugged his shoulders innocently. "What? You wanted down."

Steve sighed heavily and got up from the ground. "How is it you can be the a kind caring person and a jerk all at the same time?"

Tony flashed him a winning smile. "It's genetic"

Steve laughed out loud, throwing his head back and allowed a warm feeling to settle in his chest. "You got that right." Tony seized Steve by swinging a heavy armoured arm over his tiny shoulder's and began to walk in whatever direction. "You know what big guy? I think you're looking at this all wrong, think of it this way, your young, good looking, _single_ and you're in New York. That's a sweet ass deal."

Steve flushed when Tony called him "good looking" and tried to shuffle closer but frowned at his language. "Tony, be serious, I'm not exactly –well, not like you are, I don't..."

"You're in NEW YORK. Argument over."

"But I-"

"Hush." Tony hushed Steve with a finger over his lips. "Look, you've had a rough day, a very rough day and this looks like a job for alcohol! You can get drunk now remember?"

Steve goggled. He could get drunk, the serum had made it impossible but now he could get paralytic if he wanted! But, was that right? A man never did find any answers at the bottom of a bottle. Is just that there was only one other time when Steve really, really wanted to get drunk. When Bucky fell from the train. It could've eased his pain, not by much but it would've been better than sitting in the ruins of the bar moping with Peggy.

"err... okay Tony, but not too much." He said steadily as Tony pulled him off towards a bar.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors note:** This chapter is short, sorry for that but I am very busy with school work ^^

Now, when somebody says "What's the worst that could happen?" then, clearly all evolutional intelligence has been bypassed in exchanged for unrealistic optimism and total disregard for the fact that life will sometimes spit at you. In retrospect, Steve really should've really thought about who he was going drinking with before he said yes. He was drinking with _Tony Stark_, the man who had entire week's worth of memories blurred by alcohol. Steve wasn't a big drinker, even when he could actually get drunk, alcohol was expensive and there was one other reason that he couldn't quite remember. Another shot would help his thought process.

When his friend began to have an argument with a lamppost who was _obviously_ a Nazi sympathiser about the war Tony made the only logical decision that night and taking Steve's skinny arm over his shoulder began to half drag/half left the smaller man towards or in vague direction of his apartment. There was going to be so much paperwork, and Coulson would kill him for sullying a national icon, but Tony was at a particular stage of intoxication so that he knew that Steve needed to go to bed but also he was also drunk enough not to give crap of consequences. Tony motor skills were impaired, so he and Steve swayed a little down the street as they walked. What wasn't helpful was the fact that Steve was trying to climb onto Tony's hip (not unlike earlier) and sleep there.

"Don't do, don't... er, wanna sleeeeep." The evitable return of the Brooklyn accent made Steve's whiny drunken voice even more hilarious.

"Steve, Steve, big guy, I need you to stop that." Tony wasn't slurring a lot, but enough for people to think he may have speech impairment.

"This was fuuuuun." Steve poked Tony a little. "You, you got some swell ideas about how a guy can let loose." He hiccupped.

Tony's left side was sore from supporting Steve and he breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar street name came into view. The apartment wasn't too far away, just a few more painful steps and he could and Steve could sleep it all off. Damn, New York better not need saving tomorrow.

"Tony? Tooooony? Tony?"

"Yeh Steve?"

"Your tall, member' when use ta be tall?

"Yep."

"I was strong too..." he shifted in Tony's arms as pushed through the doors of the apartment building, and then he remembered that Steve's apartment was on the top floor. Screw that, Tony hated small confined spaces but the elevator was the safest way for two drunken guys to avoid possibly maybe fatal head injuries. The pair shuffled through the doors of the elevator as it came, Tony's breathing hitching as the doors slammed shut. Steve gave his a quizzical look, or as close to one as he could manage without puking.

"I don't like confined spaces" Tony mumbled, tapping his foot impatiently, why was this taking so long?

The smaller man tilted his head at Tony, (not unlike a puppy) looking worried then much to Tony's _delight_ wrapped his tiny arms around his neck, the stench of alcohol of his breath making Tony reel backwards. Perhaps they'd over done it.

"S'okay Tony. Don be scared, I don like cold." Steve snuffled as deeply as he could into the comforting warmth of his friend's collar bone and neck. Tony had a very distinct scent, entirely masculine with hints of his expensive cologne and coffee. His skin was lukewarm to the touch he wasn't clammy or uninviting in the least, due to the arc reactor Tony's temperature always ran a bit higher than normal which wasn't detrimental to his health. But it did make him an exquisite pillow. In the time before Steve's... accident, he would find excuses to sit next to Tony in meetings, in cars and on movie night just so he could soak up his friend's warmth like a sponge. It was one of the few times Steve allowed himself to be selfish, ah, to be selfish. How free a person must be to be truly selfish, not having to care about anyone but themselves. Tony didn't mind slash didn't notice and Steve was grateful for that. He couldn't allow his for lack of a better term unconscious desires to come into view. In his day men were killed for that sort of thing, times had changed but there was still hatred, discrimination, ignorance. He imaged in private what Tony's mouth would feel like, soft lips and a sharp tongue, the kiss would be incredible. Tentative at first but would gain momentum and eventually explode into Steve's first sexual encounter; they'd caress with heavy breathing and call each other's names in ecstasy...

Tony was only half surprised when Steve leaned in and kissed him as the elevator doors swung open when they reached their floor.

_Shit. _


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors note:** apologies for late update, thank you for reading this for so long. I promise that the climax will come soon. Also, I would like it to be known that I have learning disability called dyslexia which means my spelling and grammar is often poor. Thank you for your patience and I will try to correct any errors in future ^^

Tony was only half surprised by the kiss; Steve was about as subtle as a brick when he came to flirting. It was by no means a fantastic kiss, it was sloppy, with too much tongue and Steve tasted like whisky. There were no fireworks, no sparks of passion or a sudden conclusion that this was what Tony wanted all along. Yet, behind the drunkenness and desperation was an earnest affection and longing that the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist had only come across very few times in his life, and 90 per cent of those times had been dealing with this man. Tony realised that they had been standing there for over a minute and the doors of the elevator were about to close again. Thinking quickly he dashed out dressing Steve with him the closing doors skimming the heels of the small man's shoes.

Steve's face had turned to a sickly greenish colour and Tony knew from experience that someone turning green was never the good thing. Steve made a "I think I'm going to throw up" type of noise and Tony felt queasy himself, the last thing he wanted us to wake up the next morning not only with a headache but stinking of not so super soldier vomit. When they reached Steve's door Tony began to search his friend's pockets for his apartment keys, he will would have asked Steve for permission before manhandling him but this was an emergency. As soon as the door was opened Steve suddenly was brought back to life like a marionette in puppeteers hands and threw himself into the bathroom to be sick. Meanwhile Tony had found himself a comfortable seat on the couch while his brain tried to process what had happened in the hallway. Tony was drunk enough to not care too much about the case itself but sober enough to know that Steve shouldn't have done it in the first place. From the age of 18 Tony stark had openly considered himself to be bisexual. That was him and that was fine. But Steve was Steve, captain America; the man wore a flag on his chest and was the undisputed symbol of good, wholesome, Christian American values. So, the realistic possibility of him being anything but 100 percent straight was about as likely as Hawkeye sprouting wings and flying to work in the morning. The math didn't add up and Tony was good at math so something was wrong somewhere.

His rapid chain of thought was broken by a small bony hand pushing a lock of hair from his forehead. Apparently Steve had stopped throwing up and stumbled into the living room.

"hey" he said quietly.

"ummm, hello?" Tony answered not quite sure where this was going. "how do you feel? Better?"

Steve gave a quick pained nod of the head and climbed over the back of the couch to sink into the place next to Tony and lean back, having his weight supported by Tony's shoulder and chest. Tony could feel his breathing starting to become erratic, he shifted and Steve shifted with him until the two men were face to face the smaller man putting one of his knees between Tony's Legs.

"Thanks for taking me out." Steve whispered his words still slurring but with a seductive edge. "I appreciate it." He leaned in and on an instinct Tony leaned in as well to get another drunken kiss that he knew he would later regret. It was better this time, more focused and with_ less_ tongue. Tony growled into Steve's mouth and experimentally bit his lip which caused Steve let out a moan which was all lust that was beginning to uncurl. Steve was quick, no, very quick with his hands and he managed to unbuckle Tony's belt and undo Tony's genes without Tony being fully aware of him doing it. At least that solved the mystery of him being virgin. The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist knew that this wasn't fair, Steve was twice in as drunk as he was and he' just been told he couldn't even have any contact with his own team, so this was just an emotional malfunction. Steve put both his hands under Tony shirt and began to delicately caress Tony's chest and the older man suddenly became subconscious about his soft not quite a six pack.

What was left an off his mind that wasn't drowning in alcohol or ecstasy was screaming and clawing at him "no, no, no, stop, what are you doing? He's your friend, he's _Steve_, and he's not even gay! He'll hate you and everyone else will hate you."

Tony gathered Steve up in his arms with the not so super soldier still attached to his mouth and took a few an shaky footsteps and towards the bedroom, it was dark, the moonlight cast long lines are shadows coming through the blinds and onto the bed sheets.


	18. Chapter 18

Authors note: Hi guys ^^ someone mentioned the fact that Tony's eyes change colour, this is in fact an inside joke relating to the fact that Tony in the comics had blue eyes whilst Tony in the movies has hazel/brown eyes. Just clearing that up. Steve is seeing two universes at once XD

Steve blinked himself awake, he felt very much like he did when he first woke up after the incident with Loki, which unnerved him to the core. He even twitched his fingers and toes as if by some reflex, and he couldn't help himself. He shifted, the warmth of the bed sheets coaxing him to remain where he was.

His hangover hurt so and it should've been illegal. He hadn't had missed this have a drinking. It felt like an army of tiny elephants was dancing on his scalp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Did he have any painkillers?

But the early bird catches the worm and so on. Steve let out a groan and despite his body's protest he got up from the bed and stretched, his heart only sinking a little at the realisation that where once he could nearly touch the light bulb dangling from the ceiling now he would have to stand on Tony's shoulders. With every passing day he was growing more and more accustomed to his body and more importantly feeling more comfortable in his own skin, his original skin. After all, wasn't Steve now more himself then he had been in 90 years? If he was honest, perhaps this tragic accident had allowed him to rediscover and remember what was, what is, and what could have been.

There was a sleepy noise coming from that bed. Steve turned his head and saw his bed partner, Tony stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, was still sleeping and not getting up anytime soon. Steve felt the blood drain from his face and an almost painful tingling all over. He was also experiencing some sort of emotional crash that no trauma, be it ice, be gods with magical sceptres, be it knowing the woman who was in love with you was dead and buried, could have prepared him for this moment. He'd wanted this; he had _imagined _this, waking up beside this beautiful, generous, amazing man and sharing ridiculous pillow talk after a deep meaningful night of...well. But it was wrong, he felt really wrong and he felt like he'd cheated, and they were drunk and oh god it was all flooding back like the wave that had drowned the pharaoh and his men as he perused Moses.

Steve had kissed tony. Steve had kissed Tony on the mouth with his tongue and everything. Steve had unbuckled Tony's pants. Steve had wrapped his legs around Tony's hips.

Steve's bony knees nearly gave out. He couldn't even comprehend how much trouble he was in. Tony made another sleepy noise and Steve rushed like a bat out of hell into the kitchen in search of painkillers and possibly some cyanide to drink. His hands shook as he swallowed some Advil that he's found in a nearby draw. The room was deadly silent, a nearby clock ticked ominously as Steve stood still where he was; not able to go back into the bedroom but also not able to run out of the door. He was paralysed, his insides were cringing at just the thought of the look on Fury's face when he got hint of this. SHEILD must have some sort no fraternization policy, and Steve was supposed to be the responsible one...he'd been told to lay low and he'd gone out, got paralytic, and shacked up with his team mate.

Yet, inside him Steve didn't feel ashamed. Shocked, yes, queasy, yes but ashamed of himself? Not at all. Instead the not-so-super soldier felt a as if he had suffered a windfall. It wasn't exactly a gut feeling, more of strange wishful emotion that had no business existing at all. The more Steve tried to suppress it, the more it clawed at his skull demanding to be heard.

"...Steve?"

Steve jumped two feet in the air at Tony's voice. He swore, which was unusual. Tony looked tired, his hair was sticking up in all directions and his face was tight and his mouth was a painful line. He looked like he'd been _beaten_ up rather than just _woken_ up. The silence and awkwardness was thick you could've cut with a knife, Tony actually opened his mouth to speak a few times but his words trailed off and became lost in the horrible atmosphere.

Steve had an idea.

"Coffee?" he suggested. Tony let out a sigh that sounded like he'd been holding it forever. "Pretty fucking _please_."

Steve fumbled with some cups and switched on the coffee machine which began to bubble, he wouldn't normally feed Tony's habit but he needed to do something to distract himself. When the coffee was made, Steve sheepishly handed Tony the cup without meeting his eyes and quickly brought the cup to his lips to excuse himself from talking.

Tony sipped his coffee. "This is good. Thanks."

Steve nodded, and didn't say anything.

"...Steve, I need to go."

"Go? Go where?" Steve didn't want Tony to leave.

"Look, I don't know how much you remember from last night...but I know I can't be here. Coulson's gonna kill me." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm sure I'm the last thing you want hanging around your apartment so I'll –Whoa! Oh hello."

Steve's coffee had been forgotten on the kitchen table and he'd grabbed Tony's face to make the taller man face him. His chest was heaving up and down with uneven breath.

"Tony, listen, just listen okay?" his voice was quietly pleading, Tony compelled himself to listen.

"I...I remember what happened last night, I also remember that it was me that came on to you. I'm-I'm flattered that you indulged me in my stupid fantasy –"

"What?! I took advantage of you! You were too drunk –"

Steve rolled his eyes. "I wasn't that drunk, drink doesn't change who you want to sleep with." He blushed at his own words and Tony paled. "I-I mean that I've wanted, wanted to for a long time. Please...I think I need to explain so...please don't leave. Please?"

Tony decided he would stay. He had coffee to drink.


	19. Chapter 19

Author: Almost finished ^^ staaaaaay tuned.

They sat at the greying metal table in the kitchen, the two of them. Tony in the chair nearest the door (intentional or not) and Steve is seated in the chair nearest the fridge. Their half drank cups of coffee left to go cold sat ideally in the centre of the table. Steve had been talking for over thirty minutes, and, for once, Tony didn't interrupt him. He just listened to the smaller man take out his heart and wear it on his sleeve, not unlike the flag he used to wear on his chest. The long lonely nights of lying awake after a nightmare, the deliberate rearranging of schedules so Steve could see him, and the solace Steve found in long conversations with Bucky, or rather, Bucky's grave marker...all leading to the same conclusion. Steve Rogers, Captain America, was in love with Tony Stark. Tony felt faint, more than faint, he felt like the world was out of focus and he couldn't even home in on Steve's frail figure in front of him so just concentrated on the sound of his friend's voice.

"...Tony? Say something?" his voice was shaky, uncertain.

"What do you want me to say?" replied Tony, brain running on autopilot and giving automatic responses.

"Just –Just tell me how you feel, you haven't said anything, are you disgusted? –"

"Of course not."

"Then what?" Steve raised his voice, his tone more irritated than a few moments ago.

Tony opened his mouth, but found no words, it was insufferable. If Tony had a silver tongue before, it had now turned to lead. He felt a tickly feeling his chest and he knew it wasn't an arc reactor malfunction because Tony is so familiar with how _that_ feels it isn't even funny. The simple explanation would be that Tony was in love with Steve as well, and his snarky sometimes confrontation front was an elaborate if not very well acted front to conceal the fact that Tony was pinning like a teenage girl. That was the simple reason, but not the _logical _one. Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist's don't pine away or fall in love, they lust, certainly, but fall in love? Eugh.

"...I don't know Steve, I mean, I'm flattered."

"Flattered?" Steve had a deadpan tone.

"But I don't know If, I mean, it's not like I don't swing that way –hell I'm a swinger but you're just so-so...and I'm me and the math doesn't add up."

Steve let out a ragged breath of frustration; he slammed his hands on the table which made the structure shake.

"Just give me a straight answer" he faltered and blushes a little "Oh, err I mean an answer without all the babble!" Tony blinked at him, and Steve closed his eyes to calm himself and let his hand drop back into his lap. "Let me try and lay it out for you. . . . . ?"

Tony wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Date? As in flowers, and chocolates, and walking hand in hand?"

There was a heavy silence and the look on Steve's little face was enough to make Tony want to shoot himself.

"No-no-no-don't, don't look at me like that! I didn't say no-"

Steve brightened immediately, his blue eyes filling with hope. "Really? You'd really-?"

Tony's pocket buzzed obnoxiously and began to vibrate. He gave Steve a look of apology then quickly fliped it open and answered. "This is Stark." His face contorted as the person on the other end (who must have been yelling because Steve could hear their muffled voice) spoke in rushed tones. Tony then grew pale and muttered "son-of-a-bitch" and glanced at Steve then replied "I'll be there." He pressed a button on the phone and hurried out of the kitchen, Steve followd.

"what is it?" he asked.

"Avengers Assemble. Our green caped friend has finally made reappearance." Tony explained, contempt leaking from his eyes.

Steve frooze in place.

_Shit._

"And we finally know what he's been doing all this time, hacking into Cobra files and stealing plans for fighting robots which are now rampaging through New York as we speak."

_Holy shit. _

"Tony I-"

Tony grabbed Steve by the shoulders and pushed him against a wall. He leaned in so close that the hairs in his goatee brushed against Steve's chin. For a scary moment, the smaller man thought Tony might kiss him but instead he grit out "Stay here, I fucking mean it. STAY HERE."

Steve gave a shaky nod but when Tony didn't move he added. "I-I promise, I promise I'll stay." Tony swiftly pecked Steve on the forehead and let him go, leaving the smaller man to sink to the floor as he ran out the door. The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the tony apartment and Steve felt like the walls were closing in on him. He _couldn't _stay here, why had he promised? He wanted to go out there and personally drag Loki's godly ass into the nearest cell. He took slow deliberate breaths, trying to clear his mind. He got up, carefully, supporting his weight on the wall and went into the living room and turned on the TV. He flicked through till he spotted the shaky camera and glimpse of bright green that was the live coverage of the fight. Loki was looking as smug as usual proudly waving his 'glow stick of destiny' as he commanded the robots, numbering at more than 3 dozen to attack the Avengers. They responded beautifully, working as a single moving unit and covering each other's backs; Thor undercutting one robot with Mjoir and Hawkeye finishing it with an electric arrow to the robots main frame. Ironman hovered overhead and seemed to spot Loki and without hesitating blasted him, Steve bit his lip.

_Be careful Tony_

When the dust clears Loki is gone, Ironman flies to the ground to investigate but as he bends done over to Loki's apparently discarded helmet he is blindsided by a beam that Steve finds all two familiar. It sends Ironman spiralling into a nearby bus. He doesn't get up right away.

Steve was outraged. He wanted to tear Loki limb from limb. He understood, suddenly, that his team needed him. Tony needed him.

He rushed to a nearby draw and shuffled panicked through a collection of cards with phone numbers on them. He finally came to the right number:

02097654387

**Agent **

With shaking fingers he punched the numbers into his mobile phone.

"Hello? Phil? It's Steve, I need a favour."


	20. Chapter 20

Tony skilfully ducked behind a wrecked upside down car as the shimmering light of a beam from Loki's staff whizzed past the side of his helmet. His armour was scuffed and occasionally sparks would fly from just below his chest plate. He really should attend to that. Tony quickly broke cover to rapid fire the Norse god with his blasters as Loki was deflecting arrows from Hawkeye. Somehow, he missed, or rather; Loki did a _back flip_ and dodged the attack. He must've been training the whole time he was hiding.

Thor and the Hulk were busy trying to deal with the remaining robots whose numbers had shrunk significantly since the battle begun but were putting up and impressive resistance. Some of them appeared to flee and the Hulk crashed through the debris and wreckage after them, unwillingly being lured away from the others.

"Damn" Tony cursed as another beam headed his way, this time he flew into the air and Loki snarled up at him.

"Come down here and fight like a man Stark!"

"I could say the same about you." Tony jeered back.

Suddenly Tony was seized by the leg by a particularly enraged robot who proceeded to swing him like a lasso over its shiny head and catapulted him in the air and towards a nearby bus. Good god his head hurt. Why couldn't super villains just talk it out? You know, with therapy.

"I have no desire to 'talk it out' Stark, and if anybody is going to be needing therapy after this it'll be you."

Tony realised he'd said that out load and winced, then noticed that the magical glow stick of destiny was centimetres from where Tony's nose would've been sans the helmet. Loki was grinning madly and his eyes were locked on his target. The staff suddenly began to vibrate and illuminate and Tony tried to get up and move but he reactions were still jaded from fighting for three hours and due to being thrown into a building, two cars and a _bus_.

Something went CLUNK and Loki cried out clutched his head and dropped his staff onto the ground. Tony didn't miss a beat; he shot of the wrecked buss and scanned the area to understand what had just happened. What he saw made his mouth drop to his knees.

Loki had been hit in the head with Captain America's shield, which had been thrown by...Captain America?

Steve had apparently completely ignored Tony's plea and was now standing in the middle of the street, posed to fight, still skinny as hell wearing a much smaller version of his costume.

HOW?

"Pick on someone your own size punk!" Steve yelled in Loki's direction. Loki let out an animalistic growl and turned to face Steve, his own helmet lying in the dust. "Then why on earth would I fight you? You miserable runt!" Loki laughed. "Can you even hold that shield over your head without toppling over?!" He then sneered in Steve's general direction. "You're not worth my energy, so. I'll let you scamper back into your hole" he flicked his wrist dismissively. From his vantage point and still frozen in shock, Tony saw that Steve grinned.

"I guess I'll have to bring the party to you then." He charged towards Loki who fired a beam of light in response, Steve ducked out of the way and covered himself with his shield and ran towards a car wreck for shelter. Snarling and forgetting Tony completely, Loki followed in hot pursuit. Just then, a furious female voice shouted into Tony's ear.

"What the hell is he doing here?!" It was Natasha, yelling into the intercom. "I thought he was back home! And how did he get his suit to-oh it doesn't matter. Just. Just grab him Stark!" Tony snapped back into concentration and fired his thrusters, soaring into the air to follow Steve and Loki.

Steve felt a horrible tightness in his chest. The first signs of an asthma attack. Oh for goodness sake, not now. Loki was ripping his shelter to pieces with his staff and the tiny blonde was currently curled up into his shield (he was small enough to fit) praying the others would take the hint, regroup and take out Loki while he was distracted.

Tony was pointing his left out stretched hand at Loki and locking on with his aim this time, he wasn't going to miss...but he suddenly struck with a realisation, Steve would be hit by the blast as well!

"Steve!" he called desperately hoping he would be heard. "Move your spangled ass! You wanna get fried too?"

"I'm a little busy shellhead." Came the muffled reply. Ah, battlefield banter.

Steve eventually hopped out the wreck like a rabbit and made a dash for the street; Loki turned and before Tony could take him out, fired a beam at Steve's retreating back.

"NO!"

Steve, just as swift as his old self had been turned and held up his shield. The collision caused a massive ringing CLANG and the whole area was lit up with a blinding light which lasted the whole of 5 seconds. When he vanished, Steve and Loki were sprawled out on the ground, motionless.


	21. Chapter 21

For a moment, no longer than blink, all was quiet and still. Even the sirens and the buzz of the city seemed to have dimmed to a murmur.

Then all hell broke loose.

Tony couldn't get to Steve fast enough; as much as he wanted to help his friend he also wanted to strangle him. Steve Rogers getting himself killed because he had to be the god damned hero. When he peered over Steve he was still, lips slightly apart and Tony couldn't even tell if he was breathing. Panicked, the face plate of his suit flipped open and Tony fumbled the smaller man into something resembling the recovery position. Steve was lifeless in his hands.

"Oh please, Oh Jesus fucking Christ no." Steve would've been appalled by Tony's blasphemy but on this occasion it was well and truly called for.

"Jarvis? I need a scan on Steve's vital signs NOW." Tony said frantically, trying to find a pulse on Steve which was difficult with the suit.

"Sir-"

"JUST DO IT!" Tony was surprised by the outburst, but he didn't have time for this. Steve _couldn't _be dead, he was Steve, he was so brave and honest and he just didn't deserve this. _Please,_ don't let him be dead, there was too much left to say.

"Sir? Steve Roger's vitals show that he has a pulse."

"What?"

Below him, Steve out a raspy moan. I was so quiet Tony nearly missed it. Tiny, bony hands grappled weakly at Tony's face. Steve blinked uncomfortably as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"...Tony?" he asked, unsure, he seemed to have difficulty focusing on his friend and his pupils drifted in Tony's general direction but seemed unable to lock on. Tony was shaking, shaking with an emotion that was part relief and part rage. He grabbed Steve's shoulders and half heartedly shook him, not wanting to actually hurt any more than he already was. He took a breath and yelled right into Steve's confused face.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ROGERS?! I TOLD YOU TO STAY THE FUCK IN THE APARTMENT! DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW DANGEROUS IT IS FOR SOMEONE WHO CAN'T EVEN RUN FOR TWO MINUTES WITHOUT HAVING SOME SORT OF SEIZURE, TO BE OUT HERE FIGHTING NORSE GODS WITH DEADLY GLOWSTICKS?!"

Steve's face contorted throughout Tony's rant, first his eyes were wide at being yelled out by then he frowned and opened his mouth as Tony's comment about his asthma, as if to retort but was swiftly cut off again and settled into a weary expression. After Tony had finished, breathing heavy and obviously expecting Steve to explain himself, Steve finally to able to get a word in.

"Loki didn't hurt you did he? I mean I know about-" the world spun and Steve thought he may have a concussion but continued to talk. "The armour and what it can take –sorry it's just, my head," he groaned. "I just want to make sure that your okay."

Tony is awed, which is not something that happens easily. He was awed by Steve Rogers. The man had just been hit full force with a deadly beam that might've, no, probably would have if not for the shield and he'd currently lying in a heap on the ground with who knows how many injuries. Yet he was lying there, trying to be concerned through what Tony can only assume is a concussion induce haze and is asking him, the man with a metal suit of armour if_ he's_ alright. Tony couldn't even comprehend what is going on in Steve's mind, because all he knows is that if he were Steve he'd be focused on his own injuries. But that was Tony, and Tony knew he was selfish like that.

Without giving out a second thought, Tony, being mindful of the strength of the armour, gently scooped Steve up in his arms. It took Steve a moment to respond and that wasn't good news.

"H-Hey! Whatta, what are you." He apparently didn't have the energy to struggle, but he squirmed and went red in the face; clearly uncomfortable.

"Put me down now!"

"Yeah howabout no?"

Steve growled and tried to wriggle free, but exhaustion got the better of him and he ended sagging in Tony's metal arms. To preserve what was left of his shattered dignity, Steve hid his face into the crook of Tony's neck as Tony walked passed a very confused/amused/battered group of avengers.

"...this is new." Commented Hawkeye, nursing an injured arm.

Tony stilled, and turned his head towards the archer, and said, as cool as you like "Problem Barton?"

Hawkeye, for once, didn't have a snappy retort. So instead he shook his head mutely but rolled his eyes for effect. Inside his suit, Tony smiled with victory and continued to walk on.

"Tony?" Steve whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Where are we going?"

"Hospital."

Behind them, Tony and Steve could hear the sound of laugher, and someone yelling "You guys owe me 10 dollars!"


	22. Chapter 22

**Authors note:** Jesus how long has it been? O.o sorry it's so short but my life has prevented me from spending too much time on this.

Nick Fury was in one of his don't-fuck-me moods. Not helped in the least by Steve's little stunt that almost cost the Avengers their Captain. Well, ex Captain.

Outside the conference room Steve pulled his knees up and tucked them under his chin, a nervous habit, one he'd never grown out of but was easy to do thanks to his small size. Sitting in a single chair by a large imposing door, the not so super soldier listened carefully to the one to one 'discussion' between Fury and Tony. He only just gotten out of the hospital, the drugs they'd pumped into his bloodstream had begun to subside which meant he'd have to start a course of antibiotics. Steve shivered at the idea. If there was anything worse than taking an inhaler it was taking medication, the nasty type of medication that messed with his senses and made his stomach hurt.

Steve was wearing a thick, red hooded top with a faded iron man logo on it. It had previously belonged to Tony, but as Steve was a feeling a chill he'd been more than happy to let his friend borrow it. Steve liked the sweater very much, it smelt like Tony did and was roomy enough to disguise his bony figure but not so big it drowned him. He pulled the collar over his nose to breath in the familiar, comforting scent. Then, upon hearing a shout, Steve winced and perked up his ears, something about motherfuckin irresponsible idiots...?

A sickening, weighty feeling of guilt oozed in Steve's already weak chest. He should be the one in there facing the music, not Tony. He'd been the one to sneak out of the apartment. He'd been the one to enlist Coulson in getting himself suited up to battle Loki. Not of it was Tony 's fault. Yet he was in there facing the wrath of Fury, knowing Tony he probably wouldn't be fazed, he'd walk it off. Maybe, hopefully? He was still mad at Steve for disobeying him and putting his life at risk (the irony was laughable) when Steve had promised he wouldn't leave the apartment. Tony didn't hand out trust like boiled sweets, you needed to earn it, and treasure it for goodness sake. Once it was lost...

Steve jolted in his seat when the conference door swung open and collided with the wall. Tony marched out looking not the slightest bit perturbed. Steve felt relief flood through his veins and he scurried over to ask how the quote unquote debriefing had gone. He all but bumped into Tony 's ribcage, and the man grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

"Whoa capsicle! Where's the fire at?"

Steve dutifully ignored the nickname and took a breath. "How did it go?" He lowered his voice. "What did Fury say?"

Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, you know, I'm irresponsible; I shouldn't be allowed to keep fish let alone people, consequences for my actions, etcetera..." He was walking in the general direction of the stairs and Steve jogged alongside.

"Sounds like he gave you an earful, did he say anything about me?" Steve asked.

Tony shrugged in answer. "Not really, to be honest I don't think he's sorry you disobeyed orders and kicked Loki's ass." He glanced at Steve then raised a dark eyebrow. "Is that my sweater? You never take it off."

Steve tried to snuffle deeper into the hooded top to hide, but mumbled "yeah. Can't help it. It's nice and warm."

"Cosy?"

"Uh huh"

"Soft?"

"Yep"

"Smells like me?"

"Yea-what?! Hey!" With his tiny fists Steve punched Tony's shoulder, red in the face like the sweater he was wearing. Tony cackled and blocked the incoming swings with his arm. "I tease Cap, I tease." He checked his watch; it was softly ticking in the quiet hallway.

"Hmm, that took longer than I expected, wanna grab a burger or something?"

"It's snowing outside Tony."

Tony looked up, and turned his head towards the large oval window at the end of the hallway. The sky outside was milky white, flecks of feathery snowflakes drifted down on the wind. Ice had begun to cloud the rounded edge of the window, so that the view looked as if it was shrouded in mist.

"Heh...your right."


End file.
